


Start the Pretense

by vagrantBreath



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Captivity, Dissociation, Eli was born with 'em, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychic Abilities, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Violent Thoughts, awkward teenagers, minor bbkaz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 68
Words: 85,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vagrantBreath/pseuds/vagrantBreath
Summary: Does history guide you or do you set out to change it?-Business Suits and Combat Boots, the AgonistThe silence of isolation and the cacophony of people.The hatred of people and the love of one.The rise of Eli, the White Mamba.The fall of Liquid Snake, commander of FOXHOUND.And what comes after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do want to finish Savior Beneath These Dirty Sheets, but... ever since Forgive the Adoring Beast, writing for Voltron: Legendary Defender just hasn't been _fun._ I'll try to come back to finish up what I started, but I make no promises. Right now, I'm going to play in the Metal Gear universe.

They were taking him somewhere else. Somewhere "safe", apparently. England wasn't "safe" anymore. They had to take him somewhere that could be considered "safe" for a freak of nature like him. Not his words. Their's. He could hear it in every line of their body, every curl of their lips, every flash of their eyes. Speech wasn't necessary.

He hated this. Moving around, being used as a _bargaining chip_ … certainly, he hadn't been old enough to understand what was going on when that happened, but he still knew. He still knew his origin of birth wasn't a normal one. Freak of nature described him perfectly, with how men played God with his genetics.

Hands jostled him, breaking his thoughts as he was pushed forward. Men watched him with what they supposed were dispassionate eyes and casual hands on rifles slung across their bodies, bored with the idea they were ushering this _brat_ around, but he could see their fingers want to slip from the trigger guard to curl around the trigger itself, point the barrel straight at him and take out what should have never been. The inferior half of the equation. Perhaps he should give them incentive.

Or maybe he should take their rifle from them, wrestle the weapon from their hands and turn it on them, letting whatever would come to his lips spill out as he would hold down the trigger and watch the men turn to mangled twisted versions of themselves. The longing filled him to see something happen, something terrible, and he could see one of the men's eyes flicker with realization of what stood in front of him.

But his job was to get the _brat_ somewhere "safe." He wouldn't engage.

Maybe it was time to teach the men there wasn't a thing as "safe."

Eli traced the handle of his makeshift knife in his pants as they walked. The one in front and on his left seemed to be paying attention. He should probably even move his hand away from his pants, as the dark haired one on his left seemed to be more aware of him. The one on his right… all he would need to do is make it to a proper spot and kill the man on his right, leave the knife as he disappeared before the others could even aim. He would need to make sure that dark haired one on the left didn't catch on before he could even tense, however…

What could be considered "safe" about Africa? "Safe" for a seven year old boy… what was "safe" for him here?

Perhaps he needed to make it safe. For him. Carve out a place that was just for him, where _adults_ could not touch him. If he could do this, he could certainly take out any adult that wished to take him back. It wouldn't even be hard.

A shift in the lead man's shoulders told him they were getting close. His time was about up. Eli's eyes shifted towards the dark haired man, silently urging him not to notice. Silently urging him to keep his eyes ahead as he reached into his shorts, and pulled his knife free.

None of the others realized he was executing his plan until his knife was in the throat of the man on his right and he was well on his way into the foliage. Shouts followed him, and a hail of bullets filled the air. But his blood sang as he weaved through the jungle, freedom making his skin electric. He was _free_.

Free.

  


* * *

  


It started as one. A battle of dominance, easily won, submitting the child to his will.

Then another.

Then Eli couldn't remember a time he didn't have an army of children around him, of those his age so close to him that he felt he could read their minds by looking at them. They moved as a unit, a force to be feared. Freed children, ready to bite the hands that tried to bind them.

And Eli sat in the middle of the chaos, the king of it all.

He wouldn't be caught again. He would create an army far beyond what anyone would ever consider, and crush all that rose against him. He would surpass everything.

Then, slowly, one hand twitched on his chair as something wormed into his mind. A dark spot. A horrible spot against that brightness that was the children's thoughts. The thought of adults.

Or… an adult thought.

Eli's eyes slid to one side, his posture still casual and blatant, dominant, trying to catch a glimpse of why he thought of adults. There were only children here. Only his kind. But that dark spot would not leave, and now it had a sense of movement. His eyes followed the movement, and- there. A glint of red.

His lips stretched, too gruesome and terrible to be called a smile. An adult, infiltrating his home. Time to teach this adult why that wasn't a good thing. The dark spot kept moving, and something hot bloomed in his stomach suddenly. Hatred, inexplicable and fast. Why? He didn't know this adult. And no adult on sight had given him such hatred. The idea of an adult finding his camp had first given him feelings of _glee._ The idea of slaughtering an adult, one that would force them back into the old submissive, _inferior_ roles they had before had been a wonderful one. So why the hatred now? Why did he want to rip this adult's tongue out and force him to choke on it while tearing him apart little by little?

Who was this adult?

He slid his hands behind his head as the adult walked up the stairs, letting the hatred fill him as each part of the adult, of the soldier, of the man he was to kill was revealed.

And somehow, he knew this was supposed to be his entire destiny.


	2. Chapter 2

The instance he steps off the helicopter with his _father_ (and the thought of that makes his skin crawl for reasons he can't name, a feeling worming its way deep inside of wrongness), Eli couldn't _think_ from the sudden rush of sound, of noise hitting him in the face almost as a physical blow. It drove through him, making him outright stop. He couldn't move as the noise battered him around. Had England been so noisy? The apartment his handlers had kept him in didn't seem so loud. But now- now-

A pat on the back broke him out of it. His father, _touching_ him in a familiar way, patronizing, treating him as if he was lesser- He barely had time to see the knife at his father's back before he was reaching for it, ripping it free before he ran for the man that _dared_ touch him in such a way. _Dared_ to treat him as such when he had such a face. But something- happened.

Something…

Blurred. Something wasn't right.

It didn't matter. His father had already disarmed him, his back to the hard metal ground as pain flared through his arm. Had his father broken his arm? No, it didn't feel like it. Dislocated it, then. He could manage that, if he could just get the knife- which his father smoothly slid away, picking it up as he knelt. Words buzzed in his ear as he sat up, a voice that turned his stomach in both hatred and wrongness. But he made the words out.

"Never. Draw a weapon on a fellow soldier."

They weren't fellow soldiers. How dare his father think they were like him.

But now his father was moving, fixing what he had done. He stood, uncaring that his father was still talking, unable to hear him now over the cacophony of noise around them. People muttering to themselves, the word "Snake" the only thing he could hear clearly. Of course they would be talking about his father. Of course.

He had to get out of there. Get somewhere quiet. Before he started killing them all just for a semblance of peace. There had to be a quiet place in this horrible place. Even now, he could hear his own soldiers whispering among themselves, fracturing in his ears. He needed to get away from this. All of it. When he suddenly didn't hear anyone, no whispers met his ears, he ducked into the room that promised silence. The door took some strength to open, and fell shut behind him with a thud, but… it was blessedly quiet inside. Quiet, dark, and small. Too small. He found himself wanting to snarl as he looked around the small room, wondering where he was. But… it was such a relief to be away from the whispers of his father's men. He closed his eyes, leather creaking as he clenched his fists. But he could hear the leather. He could hear something other than voices.

For a moment, he stood there, his mind as quiet as his ears. Then he spun, kicking the door as he screamed, emotion bubbling to his lips uncontrollably. He had lost it all. The position he had. The silence. He could even tell the other boys were starting to look at him unfavorably. He had _lost_ , after all. He wasn't the leader that had put his boot on their throat.

All because of _that man_.

He had to get it all back. He had to- he-

Eli pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead, taking a deep breath.

He had to make everyone stop whispering.

  


* * *

  


The whispers were still there. Not as loud. Mostly unintelligible now. It set his teeth on edge. He wanted to know what they were saying. It had to be about him. He had to know what it was so he could put them in their place. He-

 _England_ had never been so loud, even in the middle of a crowded city. Why was this so loud now? A military base, not even half as populated? Had he just become so accustomed to his soldiers? The fact he had far, _far_ less units than what was on this base?

He grunted, glaring at a nearby soldier as he passed. A whisper met his ears as he walked, the only word coming clear was _brat._

Distantly, he knew he had found a weakened link in the nearby railing. His hand grasped that loose rail, yanking it free just as the bloodlust overcame him, the rail heavy in his hand as he brought it down on the back of the soldier's knee. The resulting crack drowned out any voices, making him laugh even as another soldier freed the pipe from his hands. He found something that stopped the horrid whispers. Something that made them stop, made his ears free for a moment that didn't mean he had to _run_.

It was… glorious.

Perhaps if he killed his father it would be even better. Take out the cursed genes that created him. Oh wouldn't that be lovely.

Eli grinned as he was shuffled away. They had other things to do than to keep him under guard. There was an epidemic going on, it seemed. So he would run free for a while. And perhaps…

He could do this. He _would_ do this.

  


* * *

  


Something curled inside him. Inside his head, curious. Prodding. _Who are you?_

_I don't even know anymore._

_Hm. You're noisy._

_It's too noisy here._

Which was him? Were both him? Was he thinking to himself?

_Stop being so noisy._

_I want them all to stop being so noisy._

Silence. Then he suddenly felt so empty. So, so empty.

Eli closed his eyes.

He wanted them all to stop being so noisy.

He'd _make_ them all stop. He'd kill them all. He'd kill his father, then turn his wrath on this base to make them all stop whispering behind his back about the _brat_ his father took in.

He'd make them all pay.


	3. Chapter 3

They tried to educate him. Tried to teach him things he knew he wouldn't need. He was _not_ like them. He did not need what they did. But they kept trying, kept- kept _whispering_ behind his back. He kept lashing out when he could, intent on stopping the whispering.

The worst was his father. The way his father easily stopped him- he would enjoy killing his father for humiliating him like that. His gloves creaked as he flexed his hands, taking measured breaths as he walked. He wanted to kill something so badly. Take a knife and watch it bleed. But surrounded by soldiers like this- none would even let him near a weapon again.

So he walked next to one of his own soldiers, listening to him with half an ear. He wasn't sure what he was hearing, to be completely honest. He knew it was idle chatter, but it didn't really make that much _sense._ It was almost as if he was hearing two things in his voice at once. But one thing did come through, the tone of voice loving, happy.

_Papa._

He turned. "You love your Papa so much?" he asked, his voice a sneer. The response was a buzz in his ears, but his name, his _real name_ shone through. Not Nyoka ya Mpembe. Not White Mamba. _Eli._ Bloodlust rang in his ears, merging with the sound of an adult. Of someone with a weapon he could steal, could _use._ Fingers wrapped around the knife at the adult's waist as he felt his lips fall into a crazed grin, his eyes already searching for weaknesses. For the best way to make blood spill, to watch a life fade before his eyes in the most beautiful way possible-

A hand gripped his, and he didn't even realize he was bent over the soldier, nearly snarling in his face with the knife to his throat. He turned to see the old man who wore the spurs for… some reason. Ocelot. That's what the other soldiers called him. He stared up at Ocelot… and heard nothing until the man spoke clearly, easily into his ears. Not whispering. One word.

"Enough."

Ocelot easily dragged him off the soldier, and he spun to meet him, holding the knife easily. As he studied Ocelot, there was only silence. Only… watching him. He rushed him, only to have his arm grabbed, twisted, his leg swept out from under him in the way his father had done before. Silence filled his head as he pulled himself back up to his feet, pain in his arm as fury radiated through him. But there was silence, blessed silence, no whispers and he could think, could look at how to rush at Ocelot and kill him-

Only for Ocelot to slam his palm into his sternum, throwing him to the ground. Whispers tickled at him again, disapproving at how he lost, but when he stood and looked at Ocelot, he heard none from the old man.

He heard… nothing.

His skin crawled as he left, pain running through his arm and chest. Something about that silence, particularly after hearing whispers from everyone else seemed… unnatural.

It didn't matter, though. He lost more face in front of his soldiers. In front of his people.

And they used _that_ name. Eli. He gripped his hair, panting. He wasn't- That name was the name of the captive, of the inferior one, of-

Could he even be a good leader now? Was he the proper leader? Was-

He bit back a scream. No. He knew what he had to do. He had to fight back. He had to kill his father.

His hands dropped as he nodded to himself. He knew where the weapons were kept. Sure, he wasn't allowed to get at them, but he could find a way to steal some. Distract the guards. He could do it. And then fight his father. Show the entire base this man wasn't anyone to worship, that he bled as red as the rest of them.

It would feel… perfect.

  


* * *

  


He needed a bigger weapon. Something… more than a few guns. Something even his father didn't have to bring him down. After the humiliation of losing to his father yet again… he growled, pressing his fists to his forehead, curling up in his bed as the noise around him only increased. It was meaningless chatter, what he could make out, but he could hear the occasional remark about him. About the _brat_ that his father should have put down like a mad dog.

He sat up, his limb shaking in rage. How dare they. How-

He had to take a walk. Now.

As he walked, he tried not to pay attention to those around him. It was only humiliating by now, to know what they thought of him and the fact he knew he couldn't take them down. To know they were stronger than he was. And if he could come close to the weaker ones, it seemed there was always someone such as Ocelot watching him. Waiting.

More whispers caught his ears, and he wanted to slap his hands over them. Or tear the tongues out of the speakers. But- no. He heard- Mission? Was there a mission about to happen? His blood started to sing at the thought. He could go along. Get away from the whispers, the judgement. And if he could escape-!

Slowly, he made his way towards the whispers, this time trying to seek them out. Yes, there was movement. Supplies being gathered. A helicopter being loaded up. He could see a man in one- Miller. But there was still room for him. Quickly, he made his way across to the helicopter, mentally urging the soldiers around him not to see him. For Miller to be caught up in something else. It was lucky for him so much went into preparing for a mission, he thought as he slipped into the helicopter. If just one of them had been more aware…

It was almost amusing when Miller finally turned around after the aircraft had taken to the skies and saw him sitting there. "Eli? How did you get there?"

  


* * *

  


It was so noisy.

He couldn't take it. He-

Slowly, he opened his eyes, silence in his head, his ears as something curled around his mind. A feeling. Curiosity. Wonder.

He reached back.

Surprise.

He didn't know if it was his or another's. He felt like he had merged, that he was more than himself, stuffed impossibly full inside his own skin that he spilled over into another body- and the eyes opened and he could see himself sitting there, hands loosely clasped in his lap.

More curiosity.

Hatred.

Understanding.

Father. A man with a skull for a face. A man on fire. His handlers. The soldiers on base. Images came and went so fast he wasn't sure he had seen them. But the impressions remained.

Then images. A cavern. Almost as if he was being taken somewhere. As if he was moving. No, he was going somewhere. But he could hear the others talking, dimly in his ears, two places at once. Amusement filled him, unable to tell if it was him or someone else's amusement. He looked up and saw- a weapon.

A Metal Gear. Sahelanthropus. The knowledge just came to him as he came closer to the cockpit, knowledge of how to pilot it. To kill them all.

He felt almost… an offer to do it himself. To take the controls.

He could see it. The lines stood in front of him how to manipulate it. But as he looked at them, he couldn't reach out. He couldn't do it. It almost felt as if his muscles were too weak, too-

Strength. Exasperation. But strength, strength to take those lines and wake the beast.

Satisfaction. _Bloodlust._

He couldn't tell if it was his.

But when he looked at his father down from Sahelanthropus, he knew the hatred he felt was his own. The knowledge of how to manipulate Sahelanthropus wasn't his, how to kill him wasn't, but the desire to see his blood drip from the rocks was completely his own.

But- he could feel something separating in his head. He reached out, not wanting it to go. But as Sahelanthropus fell apart under his father's assault, his mind lost hold and-

His breath rushed out, the helicopter too loud in his ears as he opened his eyes.

It was too empty.

But… it wasn't. He felt amusement, distant… not his. Foreign. Familiar.

He reached out again, eager. It was too empty. He was too empty. But…

He remained empty.

  


* * *

  


The idiots. Bringing the destroyed Metal Gear back as… a trophy. A painful reminder that he could have won.

But… He stared up at Sahelanthropus, seeing a form floating there. He knew the form. It had shown up in the helicopter, both before and after he felt so complete. He stared at it, mesmerized as it blinked close to him. A touch inside his head, and he eagerly reached back, wanting that feeling back. But instead, the thin form only lifted their hand, holding up a vial, giving images of sickness. The illness that had run rampant among the soldiers. Revenge in a vial.

His fingers carefully wrapped around the vial.

Approval.

Then-

Promises.

_Tonight._

He didn't know who thought it, if it was a promise to return or a plea for the other to see him again.

He only knew the other form floated off, leaving him with his revenge clenched in his fist.


	4. Chapter 4

It had taken all of his nearly non-existent willpower not to try to kill Miller. He was quite aware that none of the adults liked what he had done. But it didn't matter. He had seen something good. He had done… whatever he had done, it had felt _right._ And the way he had felt so full, so complete had just been the best thing in the world. He didn't know how he was going to get through the night, feeling so incomplete, so empty. He would look at Sahelanthropus and remember how it looked to him. How he could look at it and just… know how to use it. And now he could almost hear Miller's disappointment in between each sharp word-

Suddenly, the whisper of disappointment turned into clear _words_. He could clearly hear Miller say _We keep trying to help Eli, but it's just not working. He won't let us help him._

The words stabbed into his brain, painful, almost bringing tears to his eyes at how they lanced through his head. As sudden as the words came, they lowered back into whispers, an apology filling him. But he saw Miller's face soften past his blurred vision, obviously taking his pained tears as tears of regret. "Why don't you get some rest, Eli?" Miller said, his brace tapping against the floor. His face softened more when he nodded, unable to trust his own voice not to crack with pain. Before Miller could say more, he rushed out, head throbbing with each whisper that met his ears. When he reached his room, he instantly ran for his bed, shoving his head under his pillow, hoping blocking light out would solve that problem.

Was this a migraine? He had never had one before.

_You were barely hearing him. I thought you wanted to know._

It wasn't… his thoughts. But they weren't exactly words. Impressions that translated into words, into sentences that weren't exactly concern.

_What was that?_

_The man's thoughts._

He furrowed his brow. _Thoughts?_ He pulled himself upward, sitting, and was not surprised when he saw the slim form floating at the end of his bed, red hair messy around the gas mask. _What do you mean?_

_You don't have it as strong as I do, but you can hear thoughts._

_You mean… like I'm hearing yours right now? If you can hear thoughts, aren't you just telling them to me right now?_

Amusement. Annoyance. Both filled him, both his and not his. Yet, he didn't want to tell this person to get out of his head, to stop influencing him. It didn't… feel wrong.

Memory. His. Seven years old, escaping his handlers. But now from the outside, seeing his handlers pay attention, work… then watch their eyes glaze slightly before he stabbed one, killing them and running, free.

His memory. His soldiers, looking as if they want to argue, but deciding against it.

Not his memory. A man, clearly saying how much a freak he was without moving his lips, and how beautiful it was when he burned.

His memory. Miller looking away, nearly turning back when he sat down but unable to move, his thoughts still caught up with another thought.

Whispers. Thoughts. Dull. Bright. Maddening. Painful.

He came back to himself, letting out a long breath. Slowly, he looked back up at the edge of the bed, his limbs heavy as his head wanted to explode from pain. No one looked back at him. No one was there, but they weren't gone.

No. _He_ wasn't gone. That child was as much male as he was. He could feel it in his memories, the man, the father speaking about his son with such hatred.

He started laughing at the memory of that man slowly burning to death, the thought of his own father doing the same. It would be so beautiful. So wonderful. So perfect.

At the same time, he could feel the other child laughing in his mind, entwined beautifully with his own thoughts.

  


* * *

  


After talking with the child, he found himself trying to listen more to the whispers. Sometimes he could almost hear them, the words clearer than the occasional _brat_ that came through. They were boring, though. Mere military thoughts. Usually, they remained whispers, outside his hearing.

It was easier with his own soldiers. Because they were children? Or because he had spent years with them? He didn't know. But it almost seemed as if he could hear them clearly with minimal effort. And if he wanted to… could he influence them? The child made it seem like he had a minor ability to make those around him look away. To be enthralled in what they were currently doing and not pay attention to him. Or to increase his charisma in some way, to make him more obviously the leader his soldiers need. He wasn't controlling anyone… he thought. Just encouraging them.

He wished he could speak more with the child, but he hadn't been around. Only touching his thoughts, reminding him he was still there. Reminding him he was never empty again. He reached out, wanting to talk, but… No. He didn't receive anything back.

Exasperation.

His heart leapt.

_I'm not ignoring you. The scientist is repairing Sahelanthropus. I'm making sure it's being done right._

Why? Why would that creepy man be doing such a thing?

Amusement. Memory. The lines before him, touched by the both of them, his mind with the child's strength.

He grinned. Of course.

_If you're that needy, I'll be by tonight._

_I am not needy._

Amusement. Hesitation. Then-

His heart clenched, almost in a good way. Strong. Happy.

He wasn't sure if it was him or the child.


	5. Chapter 5

Slowly, every night, he started to learn how to make the adult's eyes slide right off him as he walked. He couldn't convince the adults to go do something else, which would have been really useful the day he tried to find where the guns were kept. If he could have changed the soldier's patrol, he wouldn't have gotten caught. Instead, he was shooed away and he ended up walking away, seething.

He felt the child immediately in his head, going over what he had done and what he had done wrong. Anyone else, he would have forcibly pushed out of his head and most likely killed them for the audacity. Instead, he let him rifle through the memory. A mental snort echoed through his head, then an impression that it was all he could have done. If he wanted to do more, he'd have to use his other ability, or ask for help.

The idea of asking for help made his skin crawl. But when the child pressed images of him going to the door, and the child floating above him, pressing into the minds of the adults ideas they needed to check another area. Phantom sounds that held their attention. Things that drew them away.

The child could do that? He slowed his steps, thinking about that. That was… useful information.

More images flit through his head. His soldiers, by his side. United by a common enemy. He sent back a skeptic thought. They were starting to drift away from him. How would he bring them back to his side?

_Make them think the adults aren't safe anymore._

Images. An accident that wasn't an accident.

He tilted his head, starting to walk at a normal pace again. An accident that wasn't an accident. How far did he want to go? Some of the children were… too complacent. They wouldn't follow him no matter what. A simple accident wouldn't sway their minds. It would have to be more than that.

His eyes tilted slightly, looking at the lines of the walls around him. His fingers lifted, gently touching them. The child traced the lines through his eyes, seeing something deeper than even he could. Slowly, he stopped, tapping his gloved fingers against the wall.

Images. Steel beams. Weak spots.

Thoughts. His own. Pulling those down.

Glee.

He grinned. He knew exactly who would be best for this. Now, whether or not he could Ralph in the proper location…

Amusement. Reminder.

A laugh escaped his throat. Of course.

_When do you want to do this?_

He looked around. No adults.

_Now._

  


* * *

  


The lines were weakest here. Even he could see it without the child's help. He knew he'd need the child's help, though. Not just to get Ralph there, but to bring it all down. The child snorted, and he could feel him reaching out to Ralph, pulling him close. Closer. Taking his own mind and reaching it out to the lines, helping him wrap his mind around the weak lines, giving him strength he did not have as Ralph stumbled into view.

He knew the child wasn't going to do this for him. He was only giving him the means to do so. Lips stretched as he _pulled_.

The entire wall came crashing down.

He made sure one pipe went straight through Ralph's chest.

As he stood there, he watched red, red blood drip down the metal pipe to the metal flooring, spreading into a wide puddle of blood. Ralph's eyes dimmed almost instantly, twisted in shock and pain. His heart pounded as he stared at him, mind whirling.

Then he turned, coming face to gas mask with the child.

He grabbed the child by the shoulders, distantly shocked his hands didn't go through his form, and pressed him up against the wall, staring into his eyes, panting. Noise filtered through his ears, whispers and voices, mental and vocal. He took the child's arm, pulling him towards his room and shoving the door closed behind them.

The child only floated there, waiting. Almost unsure.

He grabbed him, pushing him onto the bed. The child reached up mentally, and he reached back, eagerly melding with him. Eagerly wanting to know what the child heard in Ralph's last moments. What the child was thinking now.

After a moment, he almost couldn't tell who was who. His mind was so tightly entwined with the child's he didn't know where he ended and the other began. He was aware his body was pressed up tightly against the child's, but… it just felt right, to be so close physically to one he was so mentally close. Slowly, he opened his eyes, mildly surprised he wasn't looking at the world through an orange lens as he sat up, looking down at the child.

A straightjacketed arm brushed his head, his hair, as he stared up at him, blinking.

"You're wonderful," he said aloud, his voice thick. _Wonderful, strong, perfect._

_You're psychotic._

_Yes._

Taken by surprise that resounded in his head, the child laughed, raspy through the gas mask. _Psychotic is good. We're going to kill them all._

_All of them. All of them that looked down on us, that wanted to yokel us, that wanted to make us tame._

_That wanted to make us "safe"?_

He grinned. _Exactly._

_Sahelanthropus will take a while._

_I can rally the troops now, make them think we can't stay here. Many of them are even on better terms with the adults. They can get supplies to make weapons._

Amusement. Satisfaction.

He didn't care which was his now.

He let the child up, to let him leave. He could hear adult minds whispering, coming closer, the clear intent of checking on him echoing through the child's mind. The child left just as a soldier opened his door. "Eli? We need to speak with you."

As he slid out of bed, he noticed a fresh bloodstain on his shoe.

Hopefully it would blend in with the older bloodstains.


	6. Chapter 6

Each night, the child came to his room, thoughts twining into his so deeply it didn't matter whose was whose. He got the feeling this was the first time the child felt comfortable enough to return to someone of his own free will, to allow his mind to be read as deeply as he was reading another's. It felt just as intimate to have the child so deep in his thoughts, so good. He wasn't even sure if the child knew his name, or if he knew the child's name. Or if it even mattered at all. Only that he felt… complete.

Sahelanthropus's repairs were coming along, slowly but surely. It should be soon that they could execute their plans. Weapons were being made, hidden in rooms of those well loved by the adults. Of those trusted. He thought back to the vocal cords parasite he had hidden in his room, considered infecting the base before he left.

Images. Infecting where they landed. He spoke Kikongo. The parasite he had attacked the English language. English speakers would stay away if he infected where they landed, afraid of taking ill. Afraid of dying of an incurable disease.

Of course. That was so simple. How hadn't he thought of that?

_Brilliant minds sometimes think all things have to be hard, instead of realizing there can be easy answers._

_Remember you just called me brilliant._

Amusement. _You call yourself brilliant often enough._

Amusement. It filled him so much it had to be his own. Or maybe it was the child's. It didn't matter. His lips still stretched, a parody of a smile. Absently, he reached out, brushing the whispers of the adult minds around him. It was a habit now, to absently touch the minds of those around him and see if any thoughts came up, crystal clear. When the adults focused on a thought so much, it almost always was prelude to a mission or something else where their thoughts were consumed by a single thing. He kept checking, though, just in case the adults had found out and their thoughts focused on him.

But everything was a quiet buzz, and he drew back, closing his eyes. The child examined what he had heard, twisting the memory around before he felt approval run through him.

Disappointment. He could do so much more. He knew-

_Idiot. Because I'm constantly using my abilities, I can't be as physically strong as you. You're better than me there. If you were as strong as I am, you wouldn't be able to do the things you can do now._

He should be able to do it all. He was-

Ow. He groaned, hands coming up to hold his head as the child pulled away, floating in front of his bed. The psychic spike in his head was playing dirty. He'd have a massive headache well into the next day.

_Are you done being stupid?_

He could feel hesitation on the impression of words. Almost as if he expected to be hurt for doing that. Punished.

Instead, he sat up, holding his pounding head. _I'll get you for that._ Fondness.

Amusement.

Then the child was gone as the whisper of an adult mind came closer, a hint of checking on him surfacing. He laid back down, shoving his head under the pillow to block out any light. His atypical headaches (or migraines. He wasn't sure what they would be classified as) made a few of the more soft-hearted soldiers check on him at night to ensure he didn't have one that night. And considering the child had given him one now… well, he was going to be cooed over until someone shoved a pill down his throat. He had a feeling these weren't easy to find pills either, and he hated how they prioritized him just because of his age. If he got priority, it should be because he was a commander. Someone that demanded respect. Not a child to be waited on and taken care of.

But if he stayed still, hopefully the soldier would only think he was sleeping…

"Eli?"

How he hated that name. How he hated it so much. But… could he still be Nyoka ya Mpembe? Even if the others came back to his side, he had lost so much in their eyes. He would need to use the child to subvert their will, to ensure none of them would even think about ever rising up against him, and that… would he even have soldiers at that point? They would escape, be free, but he knew many would break off. Form their own unit. And those that remained… he'd have to rule with an iron boot.

He would have to do it. He would do it.

He wouldn't be Eli again.

  


* * *

  


He wasn't proud of it.

But they shouldn't have been talking about Shabani.

The way the necklace fell brought a rush through his limbs. No one could get that stupid _necklace_ now. It was gone for good. And when he watched his father, trying to be _good-hearted_ , almost prepare to jump down to retrieve the necklace, it filled his chest with joy.

And then Ocelot, stupid Ocelot, that man that not even the child could hear stopped his father.

Who was this Ocelot? Why couldn't either of the mind readers hear his thoughts? The child was stronger than he was. He should have been able to pluck whatever he wanted out of Ocelot's mind. This shouldn't have been a problem. But instead, Ocelot's head remained quiet. And not, the child said, as if Ocelot was simple. Ocelot was hiding something.

And somehow, he could hide his thoughts from even psychics. Almost as if he had been trained- and he had expected it.

… did Ocelot know before he did that he could read minds? That he could see the lines in the world around him and how to manipulate them, even if he didn't have the psychic strength to do so? Did he know if he had other abilities?

It didn't sit well with him. Ocelot might know much more than he could ever expect and neither of them could get it out of him.

He turned around as the alarm started, surprised. Did his father jump down there? His mind reached out, hoping to hear that as truth, only to hear his father's mental shock. Damn. And then, surprise, in a good way. He looked again, seeing him holding that strange woman, Quiet, her body covered in burns. And twinkling in the moonlight, on the floor-

Shabani's necklace.

Shock.

_That woman jumped down there. Got the necklace and climbed out._

_Impossible. How-_

Warning.

_I understand._

They needed to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

_Miller isn't in charge of your soldiers anymore._

He sat up suddenly as the child appeared, the impression of thought arcing alarm through his system. They got away with as much as they did because of Miller being as busy as he was. He had managed to get out of being caught just because Miller had other things to do. And now someone else was in charge? And by the way the child was thinking, it wasn't just because they wanted to take the pressure off Miller.

_Exactly. They gave the job to Ocelot._

Surprise. Wariness.

Grim acknowledgement.

_Can't you crack into his mind and find out what he's up to?_

Annoyance. _It's like he's like us. Or if he isn't, abilities like ours run in his family and he learned from a family member._

Wariness. _We can't trust him. How is Sahelanthropus coming along?_

_Almost done._

He stared at the child.

Then nodded.

The child came closer, the sleeve of the straightjacket brushing his knees. He reached up, fingers touching the material, committing it to memory. He could feel the child plucking that memory from him, examining it, duplicating the memory of how the material felt for himself. The straightjacket stayed on, another layer between him and the world, between him and thoughts that relentlessly wished to crowd in and push him out. But the memory of how it felt… he could feel the child return a memory, of scarred skin pulling into an amused, almost pleased stretch.

He tilted his head at that feeling, pressing his fingers against the gas mask before tracing his own face, the scars on his face almost foreign now after that memory. _You have your own._

 _Not like yours. Yours…_ Hesitation. Admiration.

Curiosity.

Hesitation.

Memory. Fire. Pain. Scars, twisting, twining, failure.

Anger. _Not failure. You're alive. You won._

_It's inhuman._

_I've heard adults actually say I'm not human aloud._ Memory, shoved in the child's face. His handlers. What he was. The loathing he felt knowing he was just the failed part of the experiment.

The child plucked the memory, holding it close, physically curling around it. Taking it in, taking refuge in his ally being just as inhuman as he was. Hope.

A trickle of self hatred.

He reached out, taking the child's shoulders, and pulled him close, using the physical contact to entwine his mind with the child's. _Scars don't matter._

Somehow, the child ended up floating above his lap, his arms wrapped around his too tiny frame as he pressed his face into the fabric. They were unstoppable. No amount of scars mattered. They could take on the entire base, the entire _world_ and the scars the both of them had wouldn't matter. They would both be perfect, laughing as the world burned.

The child shook in his arms, rasping out a laugh. _You wouldn't say that if you saw me._

_I don't need to see you to know it's true._

Stunned silent. And very, very quietly… fear.

The child disappeared from his arms.

  


* * *

  


Ocelot was a lot harder to keep track of. The other adults he could at least know were coming by the whispers echoing in his head. If he got lucky, he would hear the faint jingle of Ocelot's stupid spurs before he showed up. The man could move silently despite the bells he put on himself. If only they could keep track of Ocelot's mind. This wouldn't be a problem.

It wasn't until Ocelot caught him helping more of his soldiers make plans escaping that he was forced to tip his hand. He sent out a pulse of thought to the child, who reassured him. The parasite was with him. His room had been turned upside down but nothing had been found. Everything was still on track. All that needed to happen was his word to activate Sahelanthropus.

Lightly, he reached out as Ocelot dragged him through the base, schooling his face into arrogance as he felt the faintest whispers of his father's mind coming closer at a fast clip. The helicopter. He let Ocelot pull him into an interrogation room with what he figured was the appropriate amount of struggling. Wouldn't do to let Ocelot think he was up to something more than he thought he was up to.

When he heard Miller and his father's mind come closer behind the mirror (who were they trying to fool?), he forced himself to sit there, limbs loose as he reached out to the child. Sahelanthropus was being activated, and he wanted to touch the lines of activation. But Ocelot's voice pulled him back, forcing him to listen. Of course his quarters were under full surveillance, and the idea of him staying any longer to even worry about his weapon privileges, if he had any, was laughable. His limbs remained loose as he sat there, knowing he gave off a completely different air than his whirling thoughts.

He felt Ocelot touch him and it touch the child's quick rebuke to remind him not to snap at him. Not to take off his hand where it lay. They were so close. He could hold out a little longer.

It almost felt wrong now to speak with his voice. "They wanted to leave," he said, his voice thick, almost cracking with disuse.

"To their homelands?"

Ocelot moving behind him put him so far on edge he wished he had the child's strength to slam him against a wall. It made him think Ocelot was about to kill him right there, in front of his father. "They wanted to go home. That's all."

In a parody of comfort, Ocelot touched his arm. "So, they were just homesick then?"

"Not quite." The child reached in, gleeful. Almost there. He couldn't help the laughter that started to spill out, his vision merging with the child's activation of Sahelanthropus and the destruction created. "Militia warlords, PFs, the arms that murdered their families. Cousins, brothers, parents… They all had someone they wanted to kill."

The room shook.

Laughter bubbled out, whispers turning to alarm around him. "I told them, ' last chance to face the world with no regrets.'" He could clearly hear Miller's alarmed mental voice, nearly shouting at his words. "You'd better be ready if you're dragged back here." He leaned back, staring at the mirror challengingly. Right at his father, right where his alarmed mind whispered at him. "Ready to face the world as enemies." He lifted his hands behind his head, cupping the back of his head as his and the child's laugher roared out of his mouth.

And Sahelanthropus burst through the wall.

When the dust cleared, the child opened Sahelanthropus's mouth, offering him the seat. "I'm not like you." The words pushed out of his mouth, passionate. He climbed into the cockpit, parting with "Goodbye, father. I don't need you anymore," Sahelanthropus's mouth slamming shut as they left.

Freedom sung in his veins as they flew.

The child's elation sung in his head just as loud.


	8. Chapter 8

Even with all their planning, they could only get so far before all their types of fuel ran out. First was for the helicopter. But that was almost cathartic, to take out all their anger on the world that wronged them on the pilot, keeping him immobilized. They kept moving further in… only for the child to finally give out, Sahelanthropus stopping as his mind dropped out of his mind. He slammed the controls to open Sahelanthropus's cockpit, jumping out just in time to catch the child before hit the ground, his own knees skinning against the coarse dirt.

"We make camp here," he told the rest of the children. "Start building traps. The adults will be looking for us." He tried to ignore the whispers of the minds around him, the minds he used to be so close to he almost could read them without trying. Tried to ignore how they didn't seem as respectful of him any longer as he stood, the child far too light in his arms.

He would need to be in shade while he rested. Thankfully, there was some nearby. He took the child to the shade, placing him on the dirt and staring down at him, not sure what to do now. An assumption to help by getting the child water flit through his mind, but… how would it help? He wore a gas mask. Sitting, he stared at the child, mind whirling. He should probably also get food for the child. He knew what was safe around here. But- what was good for someone like the child? For his soldiers, he would have found meat. Something to put between their teeth to bleed. But the child was so small… would that make him sick if he put something like that into his body? Would he had to forage?

This was stupid. He stood, turning away from the child. When he woke up, he'd tell him what he needed. He had troops to take care of first. And he knew his father would be coming soon. They had to worry about that first.

But he couldn't help reaching back, feeling the odd sensation of a sleeping mind curled up on itself when it would normally be entwined so deeply with his own.

It wasn't until he was in the middle of setting a trap that took his complete attention that he felt the featherlight touch of a mind on his. Absently, he reached back, pulling the child in close to show him what he was doing. Images of the gore the trap should create. Approval at the gore.

He finished setting the trap and headed back to camp, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. The sun was starting to go down, and he had worked hard from the moment he had left the child in shade to recover. He didn't want his father to get out alive. None of his father's troops needed to leave alive.

Approval.

Whispers. Disturbed whispers.

_He doesn't talk around that freak._

He whipped his head around, ready to kill whoever thought that. Then, slowly, he clenched his fists, looking down at the ground. He had lost his troops completely, hadn't he. And not just because he had lost to his father. He looked like a freak to them now, completely silent when talking to the child. When one of his troops thought what he did, he reacted, proving he could hear what was said.

If they weren't completely sure by now that he was a freak himself, they had a good idea.

A light mental slap. _They'll follow you. They have no one else._

_How long will that last? How long until someone tries to kill me?_

_I'll warn you before it happens._

Determination.

His throat was starting to hurt a little…

The child's head tilted. _You should drink more water._

_You should too. And eat something. You're too light._

Amusement. Fear. Images of lifting the gas mask. Scars.

_I'll kill anyone that makes fun of your scars._

Surprise.

_I'm going to get us some food. Do you eat meat?_

_Yes._

  


* * *

  


No adults. They would all die thanks to the parasite. They were all gone.

His throat hurt.

His troops started to push him to get rid of Sahelanthropus. Their words said the adults couldn't come in anyway due to the vocal cord parasites. Their minds said they were afraid of what it would do to him, what it has done to him, what he would do to his own men with Sahelanthropus in his grasp. The thought was so loud in their heads he couldn't ignore it if he tried.

So he made one demand.

The body of his father.

He'd give up the weapon for his father.

The child twined into his mind, disapproving.

Hesitation.

Fear.

Their minds were so tangled he didn't know whose mind was whose anymore. All he knew was he didn't care. He felt whole now. As if all that he had been told about his birth, how he had been a science experiment where he had been the leftovers… how it didn't matter anymore. How being told he was a freak of nature that killed his mother didn't matter- was that his memory? It didn't matter anymore.

He could feel fingers under the long sleeves of the straightjacket, touching his arm. Skeletal, hesitant.

Their breaths rasped in their throats as their eyes met.

_You need to use your mask._

_Yeah._

He didn't move. Neither of them did.

His protective gear floated over to him.

Slowly, he took the mask, fitting it over his mouth.

  


* * *

  


Whisper of adult voices. Coming closer. He had felt many of them die, but now… they came closer. Too close. He stood in the mouth of Sahelanthropus, watching. Watching white suits come closer and closer, hearing adult minds come closer and closer.

Gunshot.

And the child brushed aside the attempted headshot, floating protectively before him.

When he entered Sahelanthropus, the death he brought to the adult soldiers shivered through his brain, through _their_ brains. And then…

His father.

He grit his teeth, wishing he could take all his thoughts and shove them into his father's head. Wishing he was as strong as the child, projecting what he wanted into others' heads and forcing them to see what he saw. The pain, humiliation, and now the freedom he had to live, to _die_ as he wished-!

When he felt the child take all his rage, he let him, let him take his hand and point it directly at his father, unloading it all into his father's mind. Letting him know exactly how he felt.

He heard his father hiss in pain and surprise, and almost in fear. Instead of letting him recover, he instantly jumped back, engaging his guns. His mind sunk just as deeply into Sahelanthropus as his physical body, the child watching his back as they fought. But- not even the child could stop them. So many… so many adults. He could feel Sahelanthropus falling apart under his mind, not strong enough to keep it together. If he was the child, this would be so simple! But no, he- he couldn't. He couldn't-

When Sahelanthropus finally fell, unrecognizable now, he tumbled to the ground, panting, body and mind sore. He needed to get up. He could hear soldiers coming closer. He-

Barrel. Barrel of a pistol, in his face.

_This is it?_

Three gunshots.

He couldn't make sense of anything. His mind couldn't grab anything mental or physical, having been taxed far beyond what he could naturally do. What- what was he hearing, seeing, what- was he dead? Was that it? Slowly, he started to sit up, trying to make sense of it. If he could, he could find a weapon. Fight back.

And his chest exploded in pain.

Crying out, he fell. It felt like he had been hit in the chest with a pipe. Had he been shot?

His helmet and mask came off. Someone opened his suit, poking at his bulletproof vest. It hurt.

And then-

"Boss! He's showing symptoms!"

It was so loud, mentally and physically, he couldn't help but hear it.

So he was dying and he wouldn't take his father with him. He wanted to say so much to his father. About his birth, his creation, how he was the scraps, just a copy of his father- But everyone was so loud and he couldn't tell who was who and if he was them and they were he and-

"I will surpass my father…" Someone was babbling. "Destroy my father…" He… was it him? Those were his words. "Destroy… you." Whispers of alarm. Touch. Grasping an arm in anger. He didn't know if his words were aloud or mental anymore. He didn't… know.

The whispers started to leave, teasing the words "sanitize" and "napalm" behind. His head cleared a little more the further they got, letting him see the world around him for what it was. To see his father standing there. His father pulled out a gun, regret tinting his voice as he said "You're one hell of a soldier."

"I will kill you!" The words came out in a vicious stream.

In response, his father ejected the magazine, pulled back the slide to eject the round, and slid the round back into the chamber. "That's right," he said as he did this. "Don't blame yourself. Blame me." The slide snapped back over the round, loaded with its single round. His father placed the gun on the dirt between them and turned to leave. He reached for the gun, aiming at his father…

And let his hand fall, exhaustion filling him from mind out.

He was a failure, from genes to birth to now.

The island was to be sanitized by napalm. He was going to die.

Maybe it'd hurt less if he shot himself.

Anger.

Fear.

_What do you think you're doing?_

The child's exhausted mental impressions filled him.

_Stay here, napalm. Leave, the vocal cord parasites kill me. I'm becoming an adult. I'm no longer just a carrier._

Determination.

Pain.

The straightjacket brushed his throat as pain ripped through it, and- the parasites ripped free.

_We can still take revenge._

_Can you make it?_

Amusement. Certainty. Fear.

He reached out, taking the child's hand.

  


* * *

  


They didn't get far in their exhaustion. Just to safety.

But it wasn't over yet. They weren't going to let it be over yet.

He looked over at the child.

… after everything that happened, though…

Who were they now?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically wrote this with Maximize by Amaranthe on a loop.
> 
> Also yes, Eli pulled a [Yang.](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/epicrapbattlesofhistory/images/9/9a/Yang_semblance.gif/revision/latest?cb=20160325203428)

The minds of adults were closing in on them. It wasn't going to happen today, or even in the next week, but he could start to hear the edge of their whispers. Tension glowed from the child as they sat side by side, the shared desire to either destroy them all or leave as fast as possible filling them both. But he could still feel exhaustion on the edge of both their minds.

They had it all… they had it _all_ and then Cipher- his father- He looked down at his hands, turning them up as they rested on his knees, at the tattered leather, his breath coming faster and faster as he wanted to just scream. _Scream_ until nothing else came out and he was empty, gone, just-

He could have killed his father and had everything he ever wanted and he had been _weak_.

Light mental slap. He looked over at the child, glaring.

_What about your revenge?_

Anger.

Unimpressed.

He reached out, grabbing the child's shoulder and pushing him down. The child could have teleported out, he knew, but he felt the child's amusement as his angry fingers bruised his shoulder, the echo of pain in his own shoulder. He felt his lip coming up in a snarl, but his arm shook not in exhaustion, not in anger.

_Are you done?_

Fear.

The child's fear. He felt the pain in his shoulder, the aggression- slowly, he let go, pulling his knees up to his chest as he sat back, the child floating to his feet.

"I'm not like them." He wasn't sure if his voice cracked because of his growing age or from disuse. They were the first words verbally spoken since they had escaped a fiery death. But… it seemed more intimate to speak the words quietly. His mental voice was the same as always, but this way… his voice broke the silence between them, lending a gravity to his words. "I'm not like them at all."

The child stared at him.

And with a raspy voice-

Said something in a liquid tongue he couldn't understand.

He blinked. It wasn't English or Kikongo. He had been learning French before he escaped as well and he had a feeling he'd recognize French when he heard it. _I don't understand._

Amusement. _I don't speak your language. I speak Russian._

Shock. It never occurred to him they wouldn't speak the same language. They spoke so effortlessly with the impression of thought with their minds it just… made him think that of course they had a common language. And the child would be able to tell what he was saying no matter what by the impression his mind was saying with the words he was speaking.

Determination. "Then I will learn to speak Russian," he declared, still speaking aloud.

Amusement.

He felt the child brush his cheek, the straightjacket sleeve pooling into his lap.

_They called you Eli back on that base._

Anger. _Don't call me that!_

_They called me Tretij._

_What they called us doesn't matter. We are more than that._

_Then what are we?_ Fear.

What were they? He had been Nyoka ya Mpembe. The commander of his troops. Now he was… and the child had been…

What was left? A hollow shell of a child on the cusp of becoming an adult. Two children, trembling between two worlds and not sure what to do next. How to take out their anger on a world that wronged them. Created a child from the leftovers of a genetic experiment. Hated a child for powers he didn't choose to have.

What was left but Eli and Tretij? The failure and the freak?

Sleeves cupped his face. _I can hear you call yourself both of those things. Eli._

He shuddered. He had never had his name said in impressions rather than words. Everyone else, even mentally, had clearly said that hated name. This time, the name "Eli" came less on the name and more on the impression of him. His face, his hair. His jacket. His own mind. It almost gave an illusion of an identity behind the name, instead of simply being a tag so they could keep track of him.

 _We can make it a good thing._ Eyes behind orange lens stayed steady on his. _We can make being a failure and a freak a thing to fear._

 _That was the plan from the start, wasn't it?_ Arrogance.

Amusement. _Where do you want to start?_

He looked around. _We're going to need proper shelter eventually. We're just exhausting ourselves this way. And weapons, once we're back up to fighting speed. And- I need you to train me as much as possible on my abilities. I need to know exactly what I can do._

Tretij tilted his head. _We need to get out of here before the adults find us first. They're getting too close._

_And also, I'm teaching you English._

_I thought you wanted to learn Russian?_

_You're also learning English. If we have to return to a town, there's a good chance they'll speak English. You might have to speak. You need to learn English._

Sulky annoyance.

_It isn't that bad._

Tretij laughed, his voice rasping. Suddenly, he was hit with the desire to lift the gas mask, to watch the scarred lips twist in a smile as he laughed. He looked away, heat twisting uncomfortably in his chest.

_We should sleep._

_I'll take first watch._

Eli woke to adults pulling the two of them apart, Tretij forced into an unnatural drugged sleep and himself shaking off the tranqs. With a scream, he _pushed_ with his mind, letting all his anger, rage, _fear_ explode around him as the adults flew, the foliage around them splintering and ripping. He looked down at his hands, seeing fire trip down his skin as if he was wreathed in fire.

Then he felt Tretij's mind stir, swim out of the drugs towards the violent rage of Eli's mind.

When Tretij finally opened his eyes, Eli had fallen, feeling strangely void of everything as his eyes closed. He barely felt Tretij lift him, and he wasn't conscious when he finally found their new shelter, his spent mind falling into nothingness.


	10. Chapter 10

_They were slave traders. Not military. They didn't know what we were._

_We're close to a town._

_… aren't you going to respond, Eli?_

_You shouldn't have done that. You can't do what I can do. I think you burnt-_

Fear.

Concern.

_About time, you asshole._

  


* * *

  


Everything was slightly blurry. His head felt slightly packed with cotton, but he guessed that could be because he had- Eli frowned, rubbing his head hard. The image of destruction came up, splinters and shreds. Wreath of fire.

The sun was dying in the sky and Tretij wasn't back yet. That worried him. A part of him whispered that it was now too much for the young psychic. His genetically altered friend was officially too much. It made sense, Eli thought with a sneer. His birth wasn't natural. Instead of being created from normal conception, he had been cloned from that hated man. And then they played with his genetics, giving him the leftovers, the _failures_ … Was his abilities born from how much a failure he was? Did his genetic twin have stronger abilities? Had his father had the same?

Though, if he had, why hadn't he used them? Did he not know about them?

Eli stood, feeling his center of balance shift slight to the right. That wasn't good. He couldn't be off-balance for any reason. Even like this, Tretij relied on him being able to fight physically. He had shake this off. He clenched his fists, shaking his head, trying to clear his head.

Get out there. Start fighting again. Start-

A packet landed at his feet. Tretij floated next to him, amusement and irritation radiating off him. _Eat this._

Eli picked it up. _Meat? What kind?_

_You need to build up your strength again, idiot._

Eli snorted, looking at Tretij. _When was the last time you ate?_

Unamused.

_Come on._

Hesitation. _You need it more than I do. I didn't nearly burn myself out._

 _And what happens if you starve yourself to death?_ Fear.

Tretij stared at him for a moment. Then nodded to the packet. _You know what to do with it better than I do. ___

____

____

Eli nodded, moving to build a fire. He had eaten raw meat before, but he didn't particularly care for the texture of it. And he had a feeling Tretij would be the type that if he didn't like the texture of something, he wouldn't eat it. It took him a few tries to get everything properly set up in a way that wouldn't set the entire forest aflame due to the cotton feeling in his head, but he managed. Then he knelt, preparing to set it ablaze.

Before he could start, something popped, and the entire thing burst into flames. Eli fell back, surprised. That… he didn't think that was him. He looked over at Tretij, feeling amusement rolling through their bond. _New trick?_

_Old trick. You're going to cook the meat?_

_It's better that way._ Eli found another stick and opened the package so he could skewer the slab of meat, setting it up next to the fire to cook as he sat down. He watched the fire curl in the air, the smoke twisting in the darkening light. Something popped deep in the flames, crackling and making copper sparks float gently into the air, beautiful destruction dying before it hit the dirt floor.

_Where are we going from here?_

Eli closed his eyes. He… he just didn't have a plan from here. They needed to find a way to fight back. To take on the entire world. But they were just two kids, slowly not becoming kids. They didn't even have access to clean water, much less food or even decent shelter.

That was probably the first thing. Securing basics. That would mean going into a town. Probably one outside of where they were. They'd have to find a bigger town, where two homeless kids wouldn't be noticed. Then they could plan from there. Figure out how to get the weapons they needed.

Eli felt Tretij examine those thoughts, and felt disgust for them. But also felt resignation. They'd have to rejoin society in some way. Neither of them wanted to, but it would have to happen. Tretij gently landed next to him, watching the fire as well.

Then, carefully, removed the gas mask.

Eli had known what had lied under the mask from Tretij's thoughts, memories, impressions of sensation. So seeing the misshapen features and scars wasn't a shock. He reached out, not sure what he wanted to do. Just knowing this was rare skin shown, and wanting to savor it. To see it with all his senses.

Tretij flinched away before Eli touched him, and he dropped his hand, something sick twisting in his chest. Fear. It had to be Tretij's.

So instead he checked the meat, turning it so the other side would start to cook as well.

Tretij grabbed his wrist when he sat back, skeletal fingers still in his straightjacket. Then, slowly, he let go, awkward. _Your mind is a lot louder like this._

_What's my mind saying now?_

_I don't know. The way you look at me isn't how anyone else does. You don't see a freak when you look at me. I don't know what you see when you look at me._

_If it's too loud, put your mask back on._

_I think I want to hear your thoughts like this._

Eli looked at him, heat warming his chest. The way his lips curled… a smile. A real smile. He hadn't felt one of those in a long time. He hadn't felt… happy in a long time.

Tretij smiled as well.

The fire crackled as they sat there, waiting for the meat to finish cooking, the two of them lapsing into comfortable mental silence. Once Eli couldn't take it any longer and deemed it cooked enough for him, he pulled it off and ripped a piece off, offering it to Tretij. Carefully, he took the bit, eating it. _Hot._

_Well yeah._

They started eating, and Eli's mind started working, thinking about how they would get their revenge. Just getting to a town and getting a stable source of water, food, and shelter wasn't enough. They needed to get stronger. They needed weapons. They needed-

Allies.

But how would they get allies? They were just two homeless kids.

… maybe if they weren't.

Tretij looked over at him, his eyes sharp. _What do you mean by that?_

_I don't know yet._

They'd figure it out when they could at least get shelter that wasn't in danger of being found by wild animals. Eli finished eating and started to put out the fire. He was starting to feel sleep drag on him again, but with what happened last time, he didn't- he didn't want to sleep. What if the slave traders came again, seeing the children and thinking they would make good labor? Or if they were the sexual slavery kind, putting them on their knees for a perverted old man?

Tretij shook his head. _I promise. I'll keep us safe. Anyone that tries that again will regret it._ Images of the traders being torn limb from limb, blood staining the trees around them.

Approval.

It wouldn't have mattered much anyway. The cotton was back, and Eli was out almost as soon as the mental exchange ended, wrapped in something much warmed than the physical as he gave his complete trust in the child next to him.


	11. Chapter 11

A ghost of a touch flicked Eli's tiny ponytail as Eli came through the door, dirty and tired from his day, Tretij snorting in his head. _What's this?_ he asked.

 _My hair's been getting in my eyes,_ he told him, grabbing the towel and pulling the ponytail out. _I got tired of being caught because I couldn't see._ He started moving towards the tiny bathroom, pulling off his clothing as he went.

_We can't stay here forever, Eli. People are already starting to wonder why this flat is abandoned._

_I know._ Two weeks in Cairo was enough. He wanted to move further north, where his fair skin wouldn't be too obvious. In so many ways, England called to him, but… he could get away with pretending to be French. He had started to learn it, after all. And with Tretij and his own abilities, he knew he could pick it up even faster. _We leave right after I shower._

Tretij poked through his head as he rinsed off, and disappointment filled him. _Military transport?_

_They won't notice us. You can keep us hidden, and if I have to get up and move around I can make them not see me. We can make it there._

Eli felt Tretij poke in his head more. _I don't like this at all._

 _Everyone we want to take revenge on is military. It's also a chance to observe and steal from them._ Eli walked out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair. _It'll be fun._

 _Put on some clothes._ Disgust.

 _I have to dry off first, Tretij._ But he pulled on his ratty clothes, making a note to steal new clothing when they reached France. Maybe they could get some real clothes for Tretij too. _Come on. Let's go._ He reached out to take Tretij's wrist, surprised his fingers passed through smoke. _Tretij._

 _You've gotten strange in the last few weeks._ Tretij floated next to the far wall, disapproving. Hesitant.

Fear.

Eli didn't know whose fear that was.

 _You're the one getting weird,_ Eli pointed out. _We need to go, Tretij._

He could feel Tretij touching his mind, and he reached back, wanting to know what was going on. Why was Tretij acting so strange? He had been the one telling him to keep living for his revenge. And now that he had plans to use the adults to get where they could start planning more, and lift some weapons-

Fear.

Images of the casual nudity.

The casual touches.

The heat in his chest, unsure it was his or Eli's.

Eli felt his back slam again the wall, breath violently expelled from his lungs as he made contact. _Don't,_ Tretij told him, the impression of word more fear than anything. _I want to get revenge with you but I don't know who you are and who I am anymore and I hate that I don't care about that anymore and I-_ The impression of thought turned into pure emotion, pure panic.

_Then what do you want to do? Stay here and rot in Cairo?_

Tretij stared at him. _I don't know. I need to get away from you._

A knot formed in his chest, and Eli knew it was all his. _Tretij-_

Russian filled the air, and Eli knew enough to know Tretij was swearing at him. The bonds keeping him against the wall loosened and Eli took shaking steps closer, eyes still on the floating child swearing in raspy Russian, his voice shaking and cracking with each word. "I just want us to live," he finally said, his words physical. "I just want you-"

Memory. Old films. When others said those words, what came after. Passion.

It fit but it didn't.

He didn't know why it fit.

But he felt no desire to press his lips to Tretij's. Only a desire to show him he cared, that he wanted them both to be safe, to be… the best.

Slowly, Tretij reached out again, mentally sifting through that thought. He shuddered, but no disgust came back to Eli, only a question. _Why?_

_I don't know. But we have to go. They'll be leaving soon._

After a moment, their only duffle bag, their first stolen possession floated into view and their meager possessions were stuffed into it. Eli slicked his wet hair back into the tiny ponytail, taking the duffle bag and nodded to Tretij. It was time for them to leave.

He could hear Tretij turn on the water before they left.

_Do you have to flood the shower in every place we stay in?_

_Yes._

  


* * *

  


Eli curled up next to Tretij, taking advantage of his ability of not being able to be seen to watch the soldiers. On the Diamond Dogs' base, he had watched the others for a weak spot. A place where he could strike and take them all out. But now that he was using them to get somewhere and held no personal ill will towards them… well, they were…

Kinda cool.

There was a precision he hadn't appreciated before. He could watch shows of strength happening around the camp, bored men pitting themselves against other bored men. Was this the military he hadn't seen before? His muscles ached to show them all he could take them all on. He was so much younger than the rest of them and he knew he could bring them all to their knees. He could-

Skeletal fingers gripped his knee.

_I'm not going to do it._

_Good._

Eli watched them, his fingers twitching. But he wanted to. He-

_You want to join them._

Eli looked over at Tretij, surprised. _What?_

Tretij didn't look at him.

_I won't leave you. Ever._

_I know._


	12. Chapter 12

_You have to stop picking fights._ Tretij placed a skeletal hand under Eli's chin, studying his face and the deep gash on his cheek. _I think this one's going to need stitches._

Eli snorted. _You didn't see who I took down. Twice my size, twice my weight, half my intelligence._

_The intelligence isn't that hard to do, is it? Do we still have the kit?_

Eli pictured it in his head, where he had last left the med kit, and soon Tretij pulled it close, the red cloth floating into their view. It opened, and the needle and thread slithered out of the kit. Eli closed his eyes as Tretij prepped him and the needle, the last of the hydrogen peroxide stinging his cut. He made a mental note to steal more as the needle pierced his skin, bright and biting. A sick feeling twisted in his stomach, not his own. They had started to figure out what was whose after a while, sometimes. And this time, he knew it was Tretij feeling sick as he stitched him up. Not at the blood- he always made sarcastic remarks when Eli came back covered in blood. No, stitches always turned his stomach.

He never had to ask why Tretij didn't like stitches. He had spent enough time in his head to know why.

Slowly, he opened his eyes as the string was knotted and severed, looking at Tretij. _Don't you want to know what I got for fighting him?_

_Other than more brain damage?_

Amusement. Eli reached for the bag still on his back, pulling out article of clothing after another. _It's getting colder. We're going to need something warmer. Well, you are._ He grinned at him, feeling the stitched pull. _We all can't be genetically altered to take extreme temperatures._

Tretij snorted. _You're going to attract attention if you're going to run around in France with your shirt open while it's snowing. Your ability to make people not look at you only works so much._

Eli made a face. He hated wearing shirts. They were too warm. _Fine._

Hesitation.

_Hey. What's wrong?_

_Eli, we're doing nothing here._

He knew what Tretij meant. They were doing absolutely nothing towards their goals. They were only surviving. And he could feel that prickling at his back, nudging him to pick fights with idiots with more muscle than brains, just for something to _do_. But he had no idea what else to do. Weapons were usually too heavily guarded for him to slip past and casually steal some. There was a limit to how many people he could make not see him, and he hadn't quite figured out how many yet. It might have something to do with how alert they were as well. He wasn't sure.

But what was he going to do? How was he going to do this? They didn't have a weapon like Sahelanthropus to stomp around in. It was just two teenage boys, homeless and stealing everything they needed. What were they going to do?

Eli felt Tretij reach out, still hesitant. Curious, he reached back, taking the tendril of thought. Then he recoiled, both mentally and physically. "What the fuck?" he said aloud, too surprised to speak mentally.

 _I didn't go looking for him,_ Tretij retorted, as if having a memory of a well dressed Russian man contact him, knowing full well the teen he was talking to was incredibly psychic, and offering him training and a job was perfectly normal. _And it could be useful. We need allies, right?_

_We're getting revenge on adults and you're going around letting them tell you what to do!_

_I haven't told them anything._

Eli snorted, crossing his arms. _I'm not going._

_Well, yeah, I figured that. You get into too many fights._

_So what? What are you thinking?_

_The question is, what are you thinking?_

Eli looked away, not wanting to look into those orange covered eyes. He wanted _revenge._ To take on the entire world. He wanted another Sahelanthropus. Another Metal Gear. But he couldn't get ahold of another one. No one was building them. And when they had, they had all been in his father's grasp. In the military's…

But he couldn't _steal_ from the military. Not with so many people around. He wasn't that good. He needed Tretij.

But stupid Tretij wanted to leave, to go to Russia to do something-

 _If you want to go, then fucking go._ The mental impression of words were more bitterness than thought.

 _Not until I know you're taken care of._ Tretij floated closer. Eli looked up at him, into the mask covering his face. _You need to get real, permanent shelter. And a plan. How are you going to take your revenge? What are you going to do?_

Eli grit his teeth. _I don't-_

_Your father is a Snake, right? Maybe you should be a Snake back. Slither into his camp and bite him when he's not expecting it. Join the military._

The thought immediately made his hands clench, teeth grit.

Then he couldn't help but laugh. _Wouldn't it be hilarious if I ended up in a specialized unit with his same code name?_ He looked out the window, at the still snow free streets. _Not the French army. If I join… I want to go back to England._

_I know._

Eli laughed at the smugness rolling off Tretij. _I know you know._ He closed his eyes, reaching out to Tretij. Wanting one last time in his mind, to be as close as he could inside of him. Distantly, he felt Tretij's fingers close on his shoulders, pressing him up against the wall as the mask pressed against his face, opposite of the stitches.

He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to lose this feeling, not knowing where he ended and Tretij began. The ghost feeling of his fingers on his hips, and the press of the gas mask against his skin.

_We'll meet again._

It didn't matter who thought it.


	13. Chapter 13

Joining the British Army was apparently harder than just appearing one day and saying "I want to join." For one, he had to be as closer to sixteen as possible.

Also, Eli officially didn't exist outside of Cipher's files. That was also a problem. He didn't have a home address, family, schooling to speak of… anything. If he lied and said he was almost sixteen, they wanted parental approval. While Eli could make them not see him… he couldn't make them think what he wanted them to think. Tretij might be able to do that, but he had already set off for Russia.

It was very lonely inside his own head. Certainly, he could hear whispers of the minds around him, but he didn't have the constant touch of another. He couldn't constantly feel what another was feeling, and hear impression of thoughts cross his mind.

But he needed to get in. He needed what the British Army would get him. Access to weapons. To- to things he needed to fight back. He had to do this. Even without Tretij. He could do this.

Which was why he had yet another filthy wallet in his hands, hiding in an alley as he pulled a single £10 note out. Just a tenner. Damn. He didn't have enough to buy himself a new identity yet. Eli rested his head against the alley, gritting his teeth. He needed _in._ But how could-

Boots stopped in front of him and Eli tensed. He didn't hear the man standing in front of him come up. Which told him this man was like Ocelot- he had some sort of mental training against psychics. "What do you want?"

"We've been watching you," the man said, making Eli's clench a fist, ready to fight. "You have a lot of talents and potential. What are you using them for?"

"Why do you want to know?" Eli shot back, shifting his body, getting ready to knock this adult out when he needed to.

"We're interested in seeing what you could do."

Eli sneered, spitting to one side. "I don't need your help," he told him.

"What are you going to do with that money? And how much are you going to need?"

Eli froze. How did he answer this? He didn't want to tell them a single thing. But- he needed allies. He lifted his chin, glaring, not answering yet. What did they know? Did they know he was a project of Ciper's? That he was the failed parts of the cloned experiment? They had psychic shielding he couldn't get around, so they must know something about that- unless it was just something all of their people had?

"We've noticed you're very good at pickpocketing," the man continued, making Eli bristle. They knew. By the way the man tilted his head, he knew that Eli knew too. "We've had some… worldwide concerns lately. Our agency is hesitant in sending an untrained teen into this, but if you are willing to take our offer, we will give you training."

"In return, what do I have to give you?" Eli asked, his eyes narrowing.

"You would work for us."

"And who would 'us' be?"

"Officially, we don't exist." Here, the man smirked. "Much, as I've noticed, like you. We can supply you with an identity to join the Army, as we've noticed you've been doing. We can help you become an officer-"

"I don't need your help," Eli spat at him. "Not to become an officer. If I get any sort of ranking, it's on my own merits." Too late, he realized he spoke as if he had agreed to the man's terms, and grit his teeth. But even without knowing who the man represented, he was offering so much. A chance into the Army. A chance to take revenge. He would get training he never had, maybe even in his own abilities. Make them even stronger. Be able to do more with his telekinesis, hear minds better. Slowly, he nodded. "As long as you tell me who you are," he added, relaxing his pose.

The man held out a gloved hand. "The name is classified, but I am an agent of the SIS. Welcome aboard."

  


* * *

  


"I swear, the kid can't be human." Eli heard Jones walk away, his mind almost screaming the words he was saying to Parker. He didn't know their given names and he didn't care. He wasn't going to get close to any of them any time soon. Eli stretched as he started towards the showers, feeling the sweat and filth on his skin pull.

But the words felt good. He had taken all the bigger, older teens down easily, introducing their faces to the dirt. His instructors were starting to notice he was fast, and he found himself enjoying any time they had to climb anything, easily zipping up to the top before anyone else. For once, he was being praised for what he could do, and it felt _good_.

Even his extra classes, the ones meant to hone his psychic abilities (he still balked at thinking of them like that. _Tretij_ had psychic abilities. He… didn't), he had his instructors praising him. He couldn't quite do what Tretij could have done, but he had started to figure out how to purposely read surface thoughts. Telekinesis… well, he could break open something that needed an extra push. But even that excited his instructors in conjunction with his physical abilities. Maybe they were thinking how it could be used to enhance him physically instead of replacing it? Eli slowed his steps, considering. That would be a good use for what little he had.

He showered quickly, heading back to his room. Despite feeling whispers of minds around him, and knowing he could reach out at any time and glean what any surface thought was… it was so empty. So alone. He didn't want to be around any of these boys. Not knowing they didn't know anything about the world. Of what lay out there, and his lust for revenge.

Eli looked at his hand, clenching it tightly. They wouldn't know would it would be like to learn they were the scraps of an experiment, the failed pieces thrown into a human being. They wouldn't understand that was why he pushed himself into doing so well, to hearing the instructors notice his good work. His strength. Everything. They wouldn't understand.

Tretij understood.

Tretij would understand again. When he stood before him again, foot on top of his father's dead body, laughing with Tretij as the world burned before them.

His psychic classes were coming up soon. He would have to keep an eye on the time.

Until then, he kept himself entertained by reading the surface thoughts of the boys around him, in the shallow thoughts of hormonal teenagers growing into the cusp of adulthood. It was surprisingly boring after awhile, but some of the boys kept him on his toes. He could never guess where Murphy's thoughts were going to go sometimes, for instance. Some days he wondered if he was truly sane. But most of them were the same: food, fighting, sex. If he never mentally saw another buxom blonde again it would be too soon.

But it was time to relax a little. And perhaps… for a moment… forget who he was.


	14. Chapter 14

"Do get your feet off the desk," Agent P told Eli, irritated as he sat down. He could see the older SIS agent trying not to roll his eyes as he made a grand gesture of lifting his booted feet off the desk, letting them fall onto the floor. "And button up your shirt. You're a disgrace, as usual."

"Careful, Agent, one would think you cared," Eli drawled.

It was true he acted like this to rile up the older SIS agents, but he also finally felt like himself again. Years of training, of proving he was the best and rising to the top of his class easily made him feel like he could take on the world again. As if he could actually pull off getting his revenge on his father. He felt like that twelve year old again, Nyoka ya Mpembe, ready to take on everyone that came by. Idly, he poked at Agent P's mind, disappointed in the psychic shield he always encountered. At eighteen, he still couldn't break through their shielding. Then again, he hadn't the same kind of psychic powers his childhood friend had. For a moment, the emptiness Tretij used to fill throbbed before Eli stretched, ignoring it.

Agent P did roll his eyes here. "How is your officer training coming along?"

"Don't need it." He grinned at Agent P's eyes narrowing. "I've been scouted. The SAS seems rather interested in me."

"Hm." Agent P leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on top of his desk. "I have to wonder if precognition is one of your abilities that we don't usually see or this is only a manifestation of your telepathy. We've been researching the SAS's interests as well. As you know, it's only a matter of time before war breaks out in the Middle East. Iraq has Scud missiles, which the SAS would certainly be interested in finding and destroying. That would be the perfect cover for you, I believe. If the SAS has already made you an offer, I highly recommend you accept."

"Oh, and if you say so, I should definitely do it." Eli definitely enjoyed how Agent P's fingers twitched at that, as if he was imagining wrapping them around his throat. He so wished he could see the image in his head. "I will go play nice with the SAS. I will even go play in the sand when the time comes."

"Good." Agent P sat back. "You are dismissed."

Eli stretched his legs into the air before rolling effortlessly upward onto his toes. The theatrics weren't needed, but it certainly made him feel good to see Agent P's eye twitch. Any day he got under the old man's skin was a good day.

The sand. Middle East. He had traveled through there on his way from Africa to France with Tretij. He didn't remember much… having been twelve and trying to hide as much as possible meant he didn't see much. What had he missed, he wondered. It was going to be hot, he knew that much. The bloody SAS would want him to be professional, which would mean proper clothing. A shirt buttoned to the top. Even years in Basic couldn't make him keep his shirt completely buttoned at all times. But he would go play nice, as he promised.

As he walked out of the building, a feeling of almost homesickness hit him. It wasn't true homesickness - he had stopped missing Africa as his home - but he supposed he could consider the way he used to entwine himself in Tretij's mind a type of home. What was Tretij getting up to in Russia? What kind of things was he doing for the Soviet Union?

The one good thing about being the pet project of the SIS was he had his own place. Small, and one side, his neighbors were a gay couple that would not stop having sex which was quite uncomfortable to have in the mental air constantly, but it was his own space. After he shut the door behind him, he threw himself into his sagging chair, looking up at the ceiling.

Play in the sand.

He could definitely do that. But now he felt… again, like he was spinning his wheels. What was his father doing now? What could he do now to take revenge? Would it be worth it to try to get some Iraqi on his side? Build an army that way to storm the Diamond Dogs base? Did his father even have that base anymore?

He'd have to find out more.

  


* * *

  


Things could have gone better.

The heated thought ran through his head as a gun barrel dug into his head. He tried to hold onto it, an impression of English thought in the middle of angry Arabic whispers. They were all so loud, and it was so much worse now that they had a bag over his head. Without sight, his mental ears strained in compensation, trying to orient himself in some way to where he was.

The only thing that worried him was the further they went, the more voices he heard.

And the more voices he heard, the more the English in his head fractured.

"I didn't expect this." Arabic. And- a jab in his head, hateful and horrid. "This one thinks he can also have the gift from Allah."

Then-

A wedge opened in his head, screaming and poison streaming in, filling him until he didn't know where he was who he was it hurt he felt like he was dissolving-

And it stopped, leaving him panting and cold. He had been taught to endure torture. Physical torture. The SIS had never- had never imagined he would ever have to go up against another psychic, never imagined he would have to pit his own meager abilities against one that used his as an instrument of torture so easily-

He was fucking Eli, the fucking top of his class, the youngest SAS member, the SIS's psychic, and he wasn't going to break under a little psychic torture. It couldn't be any different than physical torture. He-

He could do this.

He would destroy them all when he escaped.


	15. Chapter 15

The day they broke his arm was almost a relief.

After all the mental and psychic torture he had undergone, a little physical torture was nothing. The pain rushing through his arm almost cleared his head, letting him think a little bit about what was going on. He had been compromised. Taken. He was surprised they hadn't used him as a bargaining chip (a role he felt bitterly familiar with by now), but he wondered if they were more fascinated by what he was. Not many psychic soldiers came through, he wagered.

Not many genetically modified cloned super soldiers either.

He sat there, breathing slowly through his mouth as pain radiated through his arm. The bag had remained over his head, constantly depriving him of a sense he so craved, so he was unable to see how bad the break was. It didn't feel like bone had pierced the skin. That had happened once to him in training and it didn't feel like it this time.

How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? It couldn't have been that long. He had been fed and given water, but sparingly. The dignity to use a toilet, however, had been beyond them, and he was almost acutely aware of how disgusting he smelled now. He refused to even remark on it, however. Pure silence. He wasn't giving them a single satisfaction.

It didn't seem their main torturer had any interest in reading his mind, or possibly even could. He only seemed to know how to use it as a weapon, breaking into his mind and shattering it into pieces, leaving him to try to find them all.

But today, his mind was going to be left alone. Instead, they focused on his physical body, forcing pain out in almost hamfisted ways. He bit back any noise of pain, not letting them get any pleasure out of this. Their minds rolled with sickening joy at the mere act, and frustration when he didn't react to any of it. He wasn't about to let that frustration change to pleasure.

Though, at times… he felt so overwhelmed by the press of minds around him he couldn't say which was his mind anymore. The psychic one must have told them what to do, because not only did they think very clearly and loudly, they all seemed to think very specifically _at him._ If he hadn't felt Tretij do the exact same thing to him while they were together, he wouldn't have guessed. But he could feel them purposely directing their thoughts to him, at him, even if they couldn't reach out and touch his thoughts.

Tretij must be laughing at him, he thought cynically. He had been caught, and now he was being tortured instead of killing them all or being killed. Tretij would laugh, that raspy laugh behind the mask. After all, he-

He-

Even in the heat, a chill ran over his skin.

That shard. That shard of personality. His name. Where was it? Even his childhood name, the one he used in Africa, what was it?

Hateful Arabic thoughts pressed in on all sides of him, pulling at his thoughts, almost telling him he wasn't allowed to have any. He wasn't allowed to have an identity.

No. He had one. He was- SIS's psychic. The youngest SAS recruit. The clone of Big Boss. He was-

Think!

But his mind couldn't wrap around it. Every time he came close, impressions of blond hair coming to mind, his thoughts were torn apart by those around him. It was like he was slowly becoming undone, bit by bit, and he couldn't stop it. And he didn't know how long it was taking at all. Without thinking about it, he reached his mind out, trying to at least figure out just how long he had been there, and-

It hurt he couldn't think it broke wide open poison hatred

He gasped, the psychic torturer chuckling. "I had been waiting for you to do that," he barely heard over his pounding heart, the increased heart rate making his broken arm sing with pain. "And I know you'll try it again. And again and again." He felt a hand on his head, almost threatening. "Do you get where you are now?"

Instead of answering, he snarled, mind searching for other ways to retaliate. He knew he had other ways. His mind searching for weak links, for lines he could break, could-

_Pain-_

His mind scattered, and he scrambled to hold onto one thing. One thing that was him, was his, could always be him. SIS's psychic. The inferior clone of Big Boss. The-

The-

The-

Damnit!

  


* * *

  


The clone.

The clone.

The clone.

His father would die.

The men around him would die.

The world would burn.

Sounds. Shouts.

Gunfire.

Death exploded in his mind. Little fires, snuffed out. Over and over.

Bright minds. A language he understood, scrambled to understand.

Light. He snarled, trying to focus on who took the bag off his head. What mind was invading his now.

"Whoa!" It wasn't Arabic. "Chill. We're here to save you. We're the good guys here."

He knew the words, even in that order, but it sounded wrong to his ears. Not just because he had heard Arabic for so long, but… the inflictions seemed wrong. He looked up at the figure, confused. Every part of the man in front of him spoke truth, but- it wasn't familiar. Wasn't right. Wasn't-

Oh. He was being picked up. He snarled again, trying to fight. But he had been weakened for so long, mind and body, that he was taken outside, where it was too bright, too much. Bundled into clothes, surrounded by more of those minds. Minds that didn't try to think at him, but merely ran through patterns he found familiar. And-

He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open in the intense light. These men were dangerous, that he knew. But they weren't dangerous to him. He didn't know who or what they were yet, but they were on his side. They were-

He grabbed a stray piece of what one was thinking, not making much sense of it. But he saw a man, gaunt and starved, with blond hair and insanity bright eyes.

He saw himself. A piece of his identity he had lost. He wanted to follow that, but the man had moved on, his thoughts no longer there. He needed more. He needed himself back

If he was going to take revenge on his father, he needed to know who he was first.

His mind skimmed over the others, taking bits and pieces of who they were. American. They were taking him back to the United States. He heard whispers of England, of the SAS, of MIA, and sharp shards of memory sliced him. The SAS. He knew that. England.

He spent the entire trip to the military base piecing together himself, knowing a hole still remained somewhere. But the most important parts hadn't left him.

Even if he had forgotten he had been the youngest SAS recruit, he knew he had been a clone.

Even if he had forgotten his nationality, he remembered his hatred.

Even if he had forgotten everything, he remembered the world needed to burn.

He could almost hear a raspy chuckle, half remembered, at that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's very, very sick? This guy right here. At least I can breathe now without coughing, so have an update.

Every impact against the sandbag shivered up Eli's arm. But it was real, his, and it smoothed over the sharp edges in his mind. The fragments still left behind, months later. He continued to punch the bag, trying to focus on what was here and now, not what had been. What could be. What was happening. The folder that laid at home, his discharge notice from the SIS for being too unstable now. He did suppose the only good thing was that it was never public what he was for the SIS. They never made it obvious what he did for them, and they were sweeping this entire incident under the rug, sealing their records.

Doing so might make it so he could join another branch of the military, but he doubted it. Not now. Not after-

Eli grabbed the sandbag, growling under his breath. He had been so close to… something. _Something._ He could have found something to do with his military experience that would bring him closer to taking revenge on his father.

And now… what now?

He pushed himself away from the sandbag, unwinding the tape stabilizing his bones from his hands. Being genetically altered meant he could have probably trained without the tape and he would have been fine, but being forced into a public gym required him to put up some pretenses. He went to rinse off, taking no pleasure in how the lukewarm water ran over his skin.

How he hated the public. Minds pressed in around him, whispering constantly. America seemed to be far more annoying than England, physical voices as loud as mental. It made him want to whip out his gun, shoot the nearest deafening voice just for a moment of silence. But in the center of America's capital was perhaps the worst place to do that. He was only thankful he could make those eyes around him slide right off the gun he had under his jacket so he didn't have to answer any awkward questions.

When he made it to his flat, he glared at his door. He hated America. He hated this city in particular. And he hated this building. He hated his landlord. He hated how there was nothing else he could _do_.

The door opened easily, and his back grew ridged.

The folder on his coffee table was not the one he had left behind this morning.

His gun was in his hand in a thought, safety off as he moved through his small flat, checking each room and closet. When it came up clear, he returned to the folder, glaring at it. Without clicking the safety back on, he reached down with one hand, opening the file and looking at it.

… what was FOXHOUND?

Absently, he clicked the safety back on as he closed the door to his apartment, locking it before he sat down on his chair, taking the folder and reading it. A black-ops unit of the US Army. Interesting. He flipped through the files, noticing the history included his father before he left. Why? He continued to look through the files before his fingers stopped, a snarl coming to his lips as fragments trembled in his mind, trying to piece together what he saw.

His own face, but the hair was wrong.

He wasn't a part of FOXHOUND.

It made him dizzy to see. He wasn't- but he wasn't-

His eyes followed lines of text, hoping to resolve what he saw. Codename, Solid Snake. Another Snake. His fingers flipped a page, and the feeling of dizziness grew. It was something he had seen before. The results of the cloning technique they had used to create him. But it was wrong- it wasn't quite him, it was-

The child's name was David.

He was looking at his brother. His twin.

His twin was part of FOXHOUND.

The file flew across the room, papers scattering as he snarled. What was the point of this? Why did he need to see this? Who left this behind, anyway? Who wanted him to see that his brother was still going strong, was gaining things even he couldn't have? Had he been the wanted clone? The wanted brother? He had been locked away in England, never to be seen. Had this _David_ been wanted? Loved?

It didn't matter. He was going to be better than even this _David._ He would do better than this _Solid Snake._

It didn't matter.

  


* * *

  


The problem was the files didn't stop appearing.

In 1999 he destroyed one of his favorite mugs, quite unwittingly, a burst of telekinesis in rage shattering the porcelain into dust.

Father was dead.

At the hands of Solid Snake.

At the hands of his twin, at the hands of _David._

He would kill his brother for this.

His head hurt after the telekinetic rage, a hint he had overreached his abilities. He wasn't meant to do such things. But his rage continued to boil, melting the still raw edges in his mind into hatred. Into a need to see his brother in front of him, strung up and dead.

The phone rang, and he pulled himself to his feet, going to the wall to answer it. "Hello?"

"You still have a chance."

The male voice sounded familiar. Too familiar. "Who is this?"

"I'll be in touch… Eli." And the receiver went dead. He stared at the phone before slamming back into the cradle, snarling to himself.

Who had that been? How had he known his name? And what had he meant that he still had a chance?

Too many questions. Too few answers.

He was going to extract them all when he met this person, slowly.


	17. Chapter 17

After Iraq, he thought he would never be scouted by another military branch again, much less an _American_ branch. But now Eli was setting the phone back into the cradle, his face blank as his mind swirled over the fragments left in his mind. Someone wanted him for FOXHOUND. His father's unit. The unit his _brother_ had been in. Was he going to follow in his father's shadow, his brother's shadow?

FOXHOUND.

He should decline.

But at the same time, he wasn't doing anything. He was just sitting here, stewing. Feeling his mind battered by the constant pressure of American minds, skittering over the fragments left behind. Joining FOXHOUND would give him purpose again. Give him something to do. And if the history of FOXHOUND was any indication, he would have access to another Metal Gear in short order. They seemed to take them out with regularity recently, and if he was sent to destroy another one, he could commander it the way he had taken Sahelanthropus as a child. It would be simple.

Perhaps he should. Perhaps he should join, and see where it took him. His father was dead, after all. Nothing he could do about that. And his brother had disappeared, no one being able to contact him. Perhaps joining FOXHOUND could help him get his files and find out where he had gone.

Joining FOXHOUND. He should decline. But instead of declining, he found himself lifting the receiver again, dialing a number told to him only to press a few numbers once someone answered in return, an acknowledgement of assent.

He wanted to know more about who had sent him the files as well. They obviously knew something about FOXHOUND. They had been watching them. Been keeping track. Who was it? Who knew about FOXHOUND and the Les Enfants Terribles project both? Who knew where Eli had been staying?

But no answers were forthcoming as he was interviewed, carefully keeping his own insanity from the lady sitting across from him. No answers came as he was considered the commander, by no reason he could see. He had used his abilities to scan everyone's minds as he encountered them, but they were only doing their jobs, and anything he wished to know was classified beyond their level.

Well. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. He hadn't led anything since Africa. It would be refreshing to have something under his boot again.

"Per the request of our senior FOXHOUND member, we've adopted codenames again," one of the soldiers told him, making Eli tense slightly. His mind reached out, trying to read who this senior member was. "We've decided to let you decide on your designation," the soldier continued on, unaware of Eli's mind on his.

"And what is the ranking of these designations?" he asked before a chill ran up his back at hearing footsteps behind him, the sound too familiar, pulling on childhood memories. His mind reached behind him and-

Hit a wall.

"I believe the designation you would be looking for would be 'Snake.'"

Eli turned quickly, hiding the bestial snarl that wanted to come to his lips at those words and the half familiar voice. He didn't- quite recognize the old man in front of him, but he knew he was familiar. And hated. He knew he hated him. "And how would you know that?"

"The designation 'Fox' was retired after Operation Intrude F014," the man told him. "Making 'Snake' the highest designation. And I would assume you would have your own reasons for wanting the designation… Boss."

He narrowed his eyes. "And what is your name?"

"Ah…" The man pulled out a gun (a revolver, his mind whispered, wary), and twirled it, the uncomfortable memory screaming in his ear, the scent of the sea coming back to him as well as a sense of humiliation. "Well. I would be your loyal subordinate… Revolver Ocelot."

Ocelot.

Eli watched as Ocelot dropped the revolver back into the holster, knowing the old man had shown off for the specific reason to spark that memory. To watch him bubble over with hatred again, the old wound reopening at how easily Ocelot had taken him down and how they had stopped him, destroyed Sahelanthropus.

"I'm surprised you're still in the business," he said instead, his voice mild, grating over fragments of Eli-SIS's psychic-the youngest SAS member-FOXHOUND commander.

There was no indication his response had disappointed Ocelot, or if that response was even what Ocelot wanted instead of a sudden outburst of hatred. "What can I say? It's where I feel at home."

Where he felt at home. It was the truth. He didn't feel at home when he was at rest, outside the military. "So I see. Well, I will consider my codename, with the knowledge another designation has been retired."

Ocelot inclined his head, acknowledging the words. "Also, Boss… you may wish to meet the rest of your team soon. You were the last piece of the puzzle."

If only he could reach into Ocelot's mind and see who he was speaking of. "I hadn't yet been briefed on any team I would be commanding, only that they considered me to be in charge. I would assume I have you to thank for that?"

"Why, Boss, would I do such a thing?" Ocelot didn't look completely innocent, and Eli knew he had purposely let that slip. He knew he wanted Eli to know he let them know that Eli had experience commanding a group of people, even if they didn't know the experience had been as a child commanding other child soldiers. He was testing him.

Instead of rising to the bait, he only lifted his chin. "Hm."

Ocelot's face didn't reflect anything about his reaction. "Well. I suppose it's only best you meet them yourself. You should have their files within the week, and next week they should all be here. Psycho Mantis is the hardest to bring in at times, but he should make his way for this meeting."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement this time. Psycho Mantis. They certainly were sticking to the codenames. He would need to consider his own codename before the meeting. It was perhaps time to do a little research into the codenames and see why 'Fox' had been retired and if he could force it out of retirement.

  


* * *

  


As he should have guessed, 'Fox' had been retired due to Gray Fox's actions. A shame. He would have enjoyed a codename such as 'Gold Fox' or something of the sort. A designation higher than 'Snake,' a designation not even his brother had gotten.

But in the end, Tretij's words came back to him. Become a Snake and slither into his camp. There was only one real answer. He would take on the designation Snake. The codename Liquid Snake came easily after that, the opposite state of matter to _Solid Snake_. Within a matter of days, he had submitted the name, had it approved, and wore the codename like an ill fitting jacket around the FOXHOUND base.

And in the next week, he could feel more minds enter the base. A strange one, not psychic yet molding to another's. He introduced himself as Decoy Octopus, a master of disguise. A female mind, cold, calculating. A sniper's mind. Sniper Wolf, she introduced herself. The demolitions expert's mind was as large as he was, Vulcan Raven's mind thoughtful as he took in Liquid's form.

Psycho Mantis did not arrive until the last day of the week.

When he did, Liquid knew. He felt a mind on his, making him stand suddenly, Arabic fragments of torture rushing over African memories and Russian impressions of words he knew as easily as English-

_Look who the cat dragged it._

Liquid turned, coming face to mask with Psycho Mantis.

With-

_Tretij._


	18. Chapter 18

_Are you going to stay under the box forever, Boss?_

Annoyance. _It works better than you think, Mantis._ Liquid watched the soldiers pass by, the fragments slightly smoothed by the comfort of something over him, a slight darkness followed by the cardboard muskiness. It helped the slight uptick in his heart rate at the idea of reaching his mind out in the middle of soldiers, keeping their attention from focusing on him as the box slid between their patrols towards FOXHOUND's target.

_Whatever. Get the target back, and alive for once. Ocelot needs to extract the information we need from this one._

_I would like to point out it wasn't my fault the last target died._ The heat of the explosion still lingered in his mind. Had everything gone even 50% to plan it wouldn't have resulted in that fatality, as Raven was very good at his job, but that mission had just gone so far downhill that killing the target was the only answer. Letting the target escape was not an option, particularly at that point.

Liquid could feel the dismissiveness in his head as Mantis withdrew, leaving an emptiness Tretij would have never left behind. The first time it had happened, it left him stumbling mentally, an old forgotten fragment of the child, of Eli still reaching for his childhood friend, for that familiar feeling. But Mantis had given him a look as his mind had reached for him, and Liquid had felt something he had never felt from Tretij. A sharpness, a personality Tretij never adopted. It made him withdraw, a fragment of Liquid Snake making him nod at Mantis, coldly professional.

But under Liquid's command, FOXHOUND had flourished, perhaps better than under anyone else's. Neither Big Boss nor Roy Campbell had such a high mission success rate. Raven had been quick to remind him that he had only been commander for a few years now, far less time than the previous commanders, and he had run far less missions. But he still had a higher success rate in comparison. It didn't matter.

He shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the mission, and the target in front of him. Now. Now was the best time. He lined up the shot-

And easily shot the man with a tranquilizer dart.

How he wished it could be lethal. But Ocelot needed him.

It was time for him to retrieve the unconscious body. Time for the easy part of the mission.

Mantis snorted in his head. _Hurry up. Ocelot's getting bored and performing gun tricks._

Liquid rolled his eyes. _Have you managed to get inside his head at all?_

_Why would I?_

And then there was that. Liquid had this… strange feeling Mantis had chosen a side that wasn't Liquid's, and he was only following Liquid out of the fact he was the commander. It made him feel strange, wrong. They had made a promise as children… who was breaking it? Who had broken it?

… had one of them broken it? Liquid tried to reach for the answer, mind scraping over bloody fragments left behind, not finding what he was looking for.

It was disquieting, the aftereffects of the years of torture. He felt as if he had put himself together, remembered who he was after his mind had been torn apart by physical and psychic torture, but there were times he realized he couldn't remember what felt like key items. He could remember why Tretij, why Mantis was important to him, memories of Sahelanthropus coming to mind and a promise to make the world burn. But he knew it was more than that, that if he could only be allowed back into Mantis's mind the way he had been allowed into Tretij's, that he would be able to fully understand why Mantis was important to him.

When he presented the target to Ocelot, he left the room as fast as possible. While he knew Ocelot was the best interrogation specialist they could find, his methods… reminded him of Iraq. He pulled his mind away from what was happening and removed himself from the situation, letting Ocelot work without thinking about it. Without dwelling on how hypocritical it was to employ Ocelot and his torture interrogation after what had happened to Liquid himself.

It helped not to think at all.

But he wouldn't let his mind do that. Instead, he forced his mind to consider other things. The Next-Generation Special Forces. The Genome Soldiers. They were FOXHOUND's reserve soldiers, having undergone gene therapy. Even before he had read whose genes they had used, he had felt a kinship with them, his own genes manipulated much like theirs. When he had seen the genes used had been Big Boss's, his father's… he felt he couldn't ignore them. They were kin, in a twisted way. They were all sons of Big Boss.

Liquid looked down at his glove covered hand. They were all kin, manipulated by all governments. Even now, as FOXHOUND.

"You look deep in thought, Boss," came Ocelot's voice behind him, lazy and unconcerned. Liquid turned, seeing not a single gray hair out of place, as if the old man had just come from a calming walk, not a vicious torture session. "He gave up the codes easily. Octopus is taking care of it now. What were you thinking of now?"

"Only thinking, Ocelot," Liquid said shortly, not wishing to give the man more than he needed. He had never quite trusted the man given he could never even get a hint of a whisper of the man's mind.

"Hm." Idly, Ocelot pulled out one revolver, and Liquid watched with irritation as he twirled it. "Do you know what your father had been trying to do with Outer Heaven, Liquid?"

"I don't care. It was Father's dream, not mine."

"I would think you would care, after your years of being without a direction." Ocelot looked at him, his revolver going back into his holster. "It was a place soldiers could live without being a pawn of the government. Where they would always have a place, a direction. Where, perhaps, a person that had been used from before birth could finally be free."

Liquid tilted his head. "Are you trying to tell me Outer Heaven would should be my dream?"

"You are not the only one who has been used as a pawn before birth, nor the only one currently being used by the government. You've seen how they treat our Genome Soldiers when their experiments fail."

"It is still Father's dream, not mine," Liquid told him coldly.

Ocelot shrugged. "It's a thought."

Liquid watched Ocelot leave, his words still in his mind. Mantis had been used for years, perhaps as long as Liquid had been. The Genome Soldiers were nearly ignored when they didn't work out the way the government wanted them to at best, and killed with depressing regularity, with the story their body had rejected the gene therapy.

A place that didn't happen. A place they could live, outside of government control.

A place he could plan to get his revenge without worrying about anyone above his head finding out.

… damn Ocelot.


	19. Chapter 19

It was a little disappointing to be able to kick his heels up on his desk and not have anyone tell him otherwise. But Liquid still did it, fingers combing through FOXHOUND's latest assignment. Overseeing the development of a nuclear weapon test in Alaska, the weapon a joint effort between Rivermore National Labs and ArmsTech. That piqued his interest. He could possibly use that… Then again, he didn't know if he could get the other members of FOXHOUND on his side, and how many of the Genome Soldiers were truly his. Their surface thoughts were loyal, but he couldn't dig deeper to see if that loyalty went bone deep.

His fingers tightened on the manila folder. If only Mantis could be reasoned with. He needed a psychic on his side for this, not just one that worked for him. He needed- his friend. His Tretij.

But they weren't those children any longer. The fragment of Nyoka ya Mpembe hadn't ever been regained, perhaps had been long discarded as childhood tomfoolery by the time he even reached Iraq. Even now, he was barely Eli. He was barely that child, that teen unsullied by the hands of that man in Iraq. No matter what, he was Liquid Snake now, FOXHOUND's commander, and he was considering what this mission could bring them.

He reached for another file, looking at who would be working on the project. This would be the head engineer on the project.

The file dropped from his fingers onto his lap as his head spun slightly at the slightly grainy picture of the engineer that greeted him as soon as he opened it. Cursing, he picked it up again, thankful the pages were secured and wouldn't be slipping out any time soon. He hadn't expected to see _that face_. It wasn't quite the scientist's face, his features more optimistic and innocent. But it was so close that he knew automatically this was his son, and the name of Hal Emmerich only sealed the deal. Would he never be free of his past? Already Ocelot followed him to FOXHOUND, and now he was assigned to a mission where that scientist's son would be the head engineer. What next? His father, returned from the dead to taunt him?

"So what do you think, Boss?"

Without lowering his feet, Liquid closed the file, tilting his head to look at Ocelot. "I know you are quite an intelligent man. You're very much aware of who's working on this project."

Ocelot chuckled at that. "Huey's son. Like father, like son. From what I've heard, this Emmerich is a little easier to get along with."

Liquid pressed his fingertips to the cover of the file, trying to read what Ocelot was saying with those words. "And what do you know about this Emmerich?"

"What I know is all in the file, Boss." The innocence in Ocelot's voice made Liquid narrow his eyes and reach out with his mind, running straight into the mental block as he expected. What would it take to break into it? "Including the schematics that he's been considering for the weapon we're to oversee the testing of."

Slowly, Liquid opened the file again, rifling through the pages again. From what he could see, Emmerich was highly intelligent… and a bit of a fool. But all of his ilk tended to be. Like father, like-

His fingers stopped at the schematics, trembling.

He wasn't an engineer. He couldn't decipher what it was Emmerich wanted to do.

But he could read what he wanted to name it.

Metal Gear Rex.

For a moment, he felt himself waver. He could sever from his past. Not let it guide him. He didn't need a Metal Gear to take his revenge.

But it was so _perfect._ His entire past had come back to him. Ocelot had spoken of Outer Heaven, his father's failed plan. He had seen a portion of it, the Diamond Dogs base. And with his entire past here, a past he could change to become his perfect future-

"Gather the rest of FOXHOUND," he heard himself say. "We have a revolution to plan."

  


* * *

  


_You have something you want to say. You have something you've wanted to say since we got to this godforsaken rock._ Liquid stared out over patrolling soldiers, absently leaning against a wall as his mind reached out across the base, towards a psychic comfortable in a warm room.

Mantis snorted in his head. _I suppose it's not worth trying to hide something from a fellow psychic, hm, Boss?_

_It helps that I know you._

_You don't know me. Not any longer._

The file on Mantis had shed light on his new behavior. The adoption of the psychotic serial killer's personality he had dove too deeply into while he was part of the FBI. It didn't make the words sting any less. _Still. What is it you want to say?_

_Just amused at your plan. Thought you hated your father._

Liquid clenched his fist, casting his gaze around to make sure no one was watching him. _I have an opportunity to surpass him. To surpass my own past. I will take it._

_This isn't what you wanted._

For a moment, the mental impression of words felt so much like Tretij that Liquid's breath stopped in his chest. Then he inhaled deeply, feeling the sharp bite of cold as he did so. _Have you gotten the codes from the DARPA chief?_

_No. He has rather impressive psychic shielding. Ocelot is taking over._

_Hm._ Idly, Liquid reached out. He'd never felt Ocelot's mind while he had worked his craft, and he fully expected not to hear anything. But he was curious now. They were in this together. They were going to take revenge on the world, surpass Big Boss-

And with a hint of surprise, he could hear a flurry of whispers from Ocelot, all of them sickening. Bile rose to his throat at the almost sexual glee running through Ocelot's mind at the idea of torture, so strong it slipped through the cracks of his shielding.

Then-

_Liquid doesn't need to hear what you know. Pity. I liked you, Sigint._

And with that, Liquid yanked his mind back, eyes wide as he felt a fire die in his head, a life snuffed out. He reached forward, grasping at the railing in front of him, feeling his hands shake. Ocelot couldn't have purposely lowered his shielding to say that. He couldn't have known. And what he heard-

 _Boss? It sounds like you have something to say._ Mantis's voice sounded in his head, blithe and almost sarcastic.

 _Mantis. Keep an ear on Ocelot. I think-_ Liquid swallowed, still feeling ill at the feeling of aroused glee at the torture. Had his own torturer felt the same when breaking him? _I think we may have been set up._

_Already wanting to back out, Boss?_

Instead of answering, Liquid sent him the memory of what he heard, in full. He felt Mantis's revulsion, a strong aversion to the sexual aspect coming up, and then-

_I see. Want me to kill him?_

It would be for the best. Kill off Ocelot, and any threat that he bore would be eliminated. At the same time… _We don't know what he has planned, exactly, and if he's working alone. He may have more spies in our ranks. We need to lure them out._

_On it. Do you want to call the plan off?_

Liquid's hands clenched the railing tightly, feeling it creak under his fingers. _No. I will surpass my father… and sticking to the plan will keep Ocelot from suspecting anything is wrong. We will be able to work behind his back and find any other spies he has working for him if we act as if we know nothing._

 _What about the others?_ Images of Octopus, Wolf, and Raven filled his mind, with the idea of letting them know.

They would be useful. However… if Ocelot suspected…

 _They must believe we are sticking to the plan._ It felt wrong, but it was the only decision. If things went wrong for them, it would be their death warrant. They would perhaps even turn against Liquid. But they needed to put up as many pretenses that everything was the same.

Without thinking, he reached out for Mantis's mind, seeking comfort.

And for a moment, he felt Mantis reach back, entwining his thoughts with Liquid's, just like they would as children. Familiar, and it brought a heat to his chest he hadn't felt since he last saw his friend.

And then his mind was gone, leaving Liquid to stare at the Genome Soldiers, watching them patrol, wondering who else was a traitor.


	20. Chapter 20

Of all the things he expected from Wolf, allowing one skinny engineer to feed her precious dogs was not one of them, Liquid thought as he watched them feed her dogs through the camera feeds. There was a sense of pity from Wolf, a sense that she wished someone like Emmerich hadn't been caught up in something like this, but he knew she saw him as essential to the plan and paid no mind to it. Emmerich on the other hand… the adoration he felt for her was amusing in its own right. If they had been sticking to the plan, it would have been a tool to use him, to keep him on the path to continuing his Metal Gear.

As it was… Liquid didn't know what Ocelot had in mind. He didn't know what the DARPA chief had known, and why Ocelot had killed him to keep that information from Liquid. Ocelot seemed rather excited to have Rex finished as well, forcing Liquid to act as if he was also looking forward to the moment he could take control. He was, in a way, wanting to take control again, see the lines of activation of a Metal Gear under his hands again, but… not because of Ocelot. Not because he was being a puppet yet again. If he controlled Metal Gear, it would be for his own reasons.

 _None of the Genome Soldiers are working with Ocelot._ Mantis almost felt bored, though Liquid could hear a note of tension under it. _The woman isn't working with Ocelot either. She's just a FOXHOUND groupie._

Liquid let his dry amusement at that remain purely mental. _She's also quite the rookie. I would doubt Ocelot would dare to use someone like her._

_It's about time we've made our demands. Is your father's body still on the list?_

His mind flashed to the Genome Soldiers, the list of physical and mental ailments that arose because of their gene therapy. Soon after came the feeling of satisfaction of knowing he could look at his father's body and see he was dead, see his father slack with death. Mantis combed through that feeling and sent back approval. _It shouldn't take long for them to send someone to try to stop this._ Liquid crossed his arms, looking up at the camera feeds as Wolf finished feeding the dogs and ushered Emmerich inside. _It's a possibility they will send someone to undo this entire operation from the inside._

_Someone like your twin, like how they did with your father?_

Anger filled him at the memory, his fingers twitching. _If you feel his mind anywhere on the premises, you have my permission to turn him into a vegetable. I will not be working with my brother for any reason._

 _Understood._ Amusement.

Liquid lowered his arms, turning from the cameras. It was time he made his demands.

  


* * *

  


_Showoff._

Liquid ignored Mantis as he exited the Hind-D, his mind going over what just happened. The two F-16s couldn't have been their attempt to stop them. It was too small. Too obvious. _Mantis, did you feel another mind enter the premises?_

_No. They haven't sent anyone._

That didn't seem right. _Is Octopus ready with his disguise?_

_At any time, Boss._

_Let him know to don it and get into place. I feel that was our distraction, and whoever they sent has mental shielding as good as the DARPA chief or Baker._

Liquid felt Mantis's attention slip away, but his mind didn't completely withdraw. Instead of reaching back, instead of trying to entwine his mind back with Mantis's, he absently brushed the minds around him, trying to see if anyone had seen anything they brushed off. Strange noises or possibly footprints they were wary of at first then dismissed as their own or another soldier's. He heard nothing-

When he came to, his cheek was cold against the floor. Embarrassment filled him when he realized he had blacked out, though thankfully in front of no one. Slowly, he sat up, his head feeling strange.

What had happened?

_Boss? Now you're awake. The hell happened?_

_If I knew, Mantis, I would tell you._

He had been simply testing the minds around him, and then-

He could almost feel Mantis tense as he combed roughly through his memories. _You have a hole. Like someone sucked it out._

The words didn't make sense. _A hole in my memory?_

_In a way. Or like someone was sucking on your brain while you were trying to read their mind._

Liquid tensed at that. That didn't sound like they sent his brother, then. Unless that was how they had trained him. But if Liquid had telepathy and telekinesis, wouldn't it stand to reason that Solid Snake would have it in a higher degree?

That did not make sense. As both Liquid and Mantis had learned, at least telepathy had been extremely useful and had saved them on more than one occasion. Being able to hear other minds and know if they were aware of an intruder had saved them all, and perhaps had been why FOXHOUND had been so successful. That should have outweighed any usefulness of foiling Liquid or Mantis's ability to read their mind. And implants similar to Baker or the DARPA chief would have been enough so training to drain a telepath's mind wouldn't be needed.

No, if they had sent someone, it couldn't be Solid Snake. That wouldn't be possible.

But now, he would have to be much more careful when testing the minds of those around him. If he brushed that mind again… it was clever, now that he thought about it. Sending one like that against two telepaths. It would ensure the operative would be able to move about and only worry about the physical nature of being seen, and that the telepaths would be hesitant to comb the minds of their men to see if they had seen anything in fear of touching that mind again.

Well. Mantis would most likely be fine. He had much better control than Liquid and possibly could tell when he was about to touch that mind. Liquid, on the other hand…

Though, a part of him still said it was possible it was his brother… and the answer was not something he wanted to hear.


	21. Chapter 21

_Octopus is wondering if he can get out of the cell any time soon._

Liquid quirked his lips in a humorless smirk. _Of course he would. I take it the cells smell?_

_Terribly. And he's bored._

_This isn't the longest time he's had to wait for a mission._

_Doesn't stop him from being bored, Boss._

Amusement. _That is true._ The amusement drained quickly, and Liquid stamped down the urge to pace. Octopus had to remain in place. Someone would be looking for the DARPA chief soon. And since Ocelot had silenced the real one (with a disturbing familiarity towards the man in his thoughts), they had to have Octopus do what he did best.

Carefully, Liquid reached out again, knowing Ocelot was in the middle of his torture interrogation of Baker. In part, the caution was to avoid the mind he had encountered before, but perhaps more largely in part in case he ran into Ocelot's disgusting sexual eagerness. The thought of what Ocelot could have done to him had Tretij (Mantis, his mind whispered) not interrupted them with the activated Sahelanthropus made him ill, the fact that Ocelot would have been doing such a thing that caused such a reaction to a twelve year old turning his stomach. But now, at a much older age, he had to brave this reaction to see if he could grasp another scrap of thought. Another bit that would illuminate what Ocelot had in mind, that would tell him how to approach the situation and the best time and way to kill the old man.

After all, he didn't want to incur a possible retaliatory tactical strike, but he did want to parade the old man's head where his puppet master could see it.

_Octopus is hearing noise in the ducts._

Liquid tensed, pulling his mind back from Ocelot's. It was time. _Keep your attention on Octopus. Try to get a description of our intruder._

There was silence for a moment, then… derision. _Octopus is saying the noise keeps going back and forth from the woman's cell._

That… stunned him a little. _What is that Silverburgh woman doing?_

_From what Octopus can tell? Working out._

_And that is all? She hasn't signaled for any assistance?_

_Nope._

It made no sense. Perhaps the intruder was considering if she would be a good ally, or the best way to interrogate her on what happened?

_I doubt it, Boss. The guy just dropped in on Octopus._

Well then. Liquid leaned against the nearest wall, letting his eyes unfocus as Mantis sent audio and visual of the intruder Octopus had in front of him. It took a moment to understand what he saw, having not used this method often, but-

That.

That was Solid Snake.

The features were Liquid's, exactly, only with lighter skin and darker hair. But there was no denying it. What he saw in Octopus's mind, filtered through Mantis's thoughts, was his own twin: David, Solid Snake. They had truly sent his own twin to take him down, much like how they had with their father.

He was about to reach out with his own mind, to dig as far as he possibly could into Snake's mind before a psychic spike ran through his head, pain tinged with disappointment and… something else. Something he hadn't felt since he and Mantis had been children. _Don't be stupid, Boss. I don't even need to touch his mind to know it's a natural psychic vortex. It's almost pulling me in while I'm here in Octopus's mind. He's the exact opposite of you. So don't try to read his thoughts. I don't need you a vegetable while we're pulling this off._

A natural psychic vortex. Why… what was the advantage of that? Liquid was the inferior twin, the leftovers shoved into a human body. It would only be natural that his weak psychic abilities would be the leftovers and Solid Snake got the good ones. Why would they genetically alter his superior brother in such a way?

Something was creeping up in his thoughts, and Liquid did not like the thought at all.

 _We're not going to be able to keep track of him._ Liquid couldn't stop from pacing this time. _He's going to be running free, and the only way we will be able to tell where he is will be if someone catches him by accident or one of the cameras go down for a moment where he is._

_Boss, if you remember correctly, we can't activate Metal Gear now. Even if Baker gives up his PAL code, we only have one thanks to Ocelot. We might be able to use Snake to activate Metal Gear as well as take out Ocelot. And if it's Snake to kill the old man, we won't have to worry about anyone trying to ruin our fun early._

Liquid ground his teeth at the thought. Using his brother would be for the best, making him do their dirty work for them. And Mantis was right. If Snake killed Ocelot instead of them, it wouldn't seem strange at all. But-

_Boss-_

Before Liquid could send another thought back, he was already moving, his entire body alight at the pained impression of word from Mantis, the word trembling between professional and the more personal "Eli," full of who he was and had been. _Where are you?_

A vision of the room filled Liquid's mind and he picked up his pace. Mantis didn't do that unless he couldn't think very well. He could usually give directions in his mind. But Liquid knew where that room was, and it didn't take long for him to get there. When he arrived, Mantis was curled up, gas mask scraping against the floor as he breathed raggedly. Instinctively, Liquid reached out with his mind, and Mantis eagerly twined his mind in with his as Liquid bent before him, hands on his arms.

 _There's another mind._ The thought came between them in that way that Liquid had almost forgotten about, unsure who was thinking, but not caring who it was. _It's barely a mind anymore. Like yours, Eli._

_What do you mean?_

_It's been torn apart and put back together so much it's only fragments of what it used to be._

_Where is it?_

_I don't know. It goes quiet until it's in battle. It's like being raked over glowing hot coals then run through with glass to even encounter that mind. We need to take it out, Eli. Now._

_We will._

His hands sought Mantis's, brushing them before a life snuffed out in his head, a familiar one. Liquid's eyes went wide, not sure if he felt it right. He couldn't- Octopus's disguise had been perfect. Snake couldn't have-

_Go back to the cameras. Find out what happened, Liquid. I'll read the woman's mind to find out what she heard._ Mantis rose, his feet floating an inch above the ground. _Well? What are you waiting for?_

Liquid snorted, rising as well as he felt Mantis pull his mind back. He started to leave, only to feel Mantis lightly touch his mind.

_Maybe some day we'll piece your fragments together again. Eli._


	22. Chapter 22

It rankled that he was cut off from Snake's movements. Ocelot had mentioned offhand he would have been able to find out how to get someone onto Snake's support team, but Liquid had dismissed that idea. He and Mantis could read minds, after all, and Ocelot had connections. They wouldn't need to infiltrate his support team.

Now he regretted his hubris. With what happened to Octopus, and what Ocelot said his connections told him about a new virus before he went and strung Baker up-

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his nose filled with the scent of Ocelot's blood as the old man injected himself with a painkiller. The stump of his arm was already treated and bandaged, the blood flow slowed to almost nothing. Solid Snake was on Shadow Moses, he couldn't keep track of him psychically, there was someone possibly as insane as Liquid himself wandering the halls of the base, and that insane ninja had just taken the arm of Ocelot. Which wasn't that much of a problem except now trying to read Ocelot's mind and figure out how deep it went was even more of an exercise in frustration. Ocelot had to have trained for this as well, since his thoughts were soaked in sex, a heat for his father that turned his stomach and made him uneasy if Ocelot was playing another game he wasn't seeing against his puppet master for a chance to stay with the man with a face close to who he had loved.

Ocelot's game was far beyond him, and he couldn't sense a single piece of it. He didn't know if Ocelot was trying to manipulate him even like that, knowing he could read his mind and make him think he would turn back to Liquid, pretending to stay loyal out of a disgusting reason only to bury the knife deep when he didn't expect it.

And now his brother had Emmerich on his side. The engineer that built _his_ Metal Gear.

_Boss. You know we can still get him to activate Metal Gear. Emmerich's good with computers. He could figure out the secret pretty fast._

_How do you expect to do that?_ Liquid turned away from Ocelot, giving the illusion of letting him get himself back together while focusing on Mantis. If he had Rex, then- it wouldn't matter what Ocelot had in mind.

_We'd have to work directly with them-_

_I should shoot you for even considering that, Mantis._

Amusement. _You won't. You know it's a good idea._

"I'm going to check on our plans," he told Ocelot, not even waiting for the dazed nod before he left, a snarl coming to his lips. _Explain what you're thinking, Mantis. Before I get there._

_Emmerich is smart, but not that wise. He's the definition of book smart, street stupid. If Snake was sent here and he didn't ask any questions, he's probably not about to ask many if we're going to give him just enough to steer him in the right direction. And… hm, we could possibly also put pressure on them using a hostage._

_There we go._ Approval. _That's my Mantis. I knew you weren't just thinking of divulging your entire hand._

_The woman has Snake in her thoughts. We can have Wolf capture her and use her life against Snake. Tell him to… hm, that Ocelot has taken over the revolt, will kill her, and will activate Metal Gear unless he stops him._

_I doubt Snake will just believe us. We won't be able to simply put psychic pressure on him._

_Which is why your soldiers are about to start shooting at you in about five seconds._

Liquid felt a jolt of alarm run through him at that. _You-!_

It was just enough warning. Bullets sang through the air as a soldier caught sight of him, another radioing for help. Liquid cursed as he dove for cover, reaching up to his bicep and fingering a hole in his jacket. Better a hole in his jacket than his skin, but still. He liked this jacket. He pulled out his gun, thumbing the safety off before scanning the minds of the soldiers, gritting his teeth at what they were thinking.

_You're making them think I'm my brother._

_It's effective. And he has to at least be hearing the gunshots. Now do your stealth thing and lead him here. He should be coming this way soon._

The stealth thing. Which meant not killing his soldiers. His chest squeezed a little at the thought of killing them as it was, killing the ones that underwent gene therapy and were cast aside. Carefully, Liquid looked around, trying to find a way out. He tilted his head down, swallowing as the minds and voices of his soldiers came closer- aha. If he moved while their backs were to him, he could make his way to the vent.

Slowly, he reached back out, then moved as he felt their minds not focused his way, forcing the floor under him to remain silent. Limited telekinesis had its uses. He paused behind a stack of crates as he felt minds turn his location, and instinctively he started to push them aside. Use his ability to make them not see him, make eyes slide right off him.

Something clattered above him.

Instinct made him cover his eyes right before the flash grenade went off. His ears rang as he lowered his arm, the other guards' minds dazed by the grenade as he ran for the duct, instantly climbing in. But he waited, listening to the minds of the guards as they followed the noise above them, then as they swept the area, not finding what they were looking for.

And then as they went back to their patrols, adrenaline wearing off but their minds still aware there was an intruder and to stay alert. Liquid slowly crawled back out of the duct, slipping through the patrols towards Mantis's room, pushing the minds of the men around him away if they came too close.

And it had come close. _That was rude, Mantis._

_If anything, Emmerich saw it. He's running around in this prototype stealth camouflage and he watched the men shoot at you. He can take the information back to Snake._

_Good._ There was a pause, then- _The woman's going to be here soon. Want me to keep her here or let her on through and let Wolf take care of her?_

_Since we are apparently going with your plan, let her through and tell Wolf to capture her._

_Can do._

Well. It was possible that had worked to some degree. He was certain the flash grenade had been Snake. So now, what did that mean? What did Snake think of the entire thing?

Liquid frowned.

_This better work, Mantis._


	23. Chapter 23

Sneaking around Shadow Moses was… annoying. It gave Liquid a chance to stretch his abilities, however. It had been a while since he was forced to push awarenesses away from his location so he could move about undetected. Almost felt like how it had been before, a memory of sneaking around the Diamond Dogs base coming to mind. Sneaking around Cairo, around the various streets of France before returning to England.

_Except now you're actually good at it._

_I'm hurt, Mantis._

Amusement. _We were untrained kids, Boss. Of course we're going to be better now that we know what we're doing._ Then- alarm. _Boss, Ocelot has Snake. I don't know how or why, but he got Snake captured. I can't read the old man's mind yet, but I think he's figured us out._

Damn. _Are you going to keep trying to read his mind?_

_Normally, I would say I would I'd brave that depravity for you, Boss, but I'm already feeling the vortex that is your twin. I don't know how long I would be able to stick around, not to mention I don't know if Ocelot will slip up again. Or if he'll actually torture Snake._

Liquid felt a Genome Soldier's mind come close, and he tensed, shuffling back slightly. _If he captured Snake, he has a reason for it. He wants Snake for something._

_Draw you out of hiding? Your hatred and desire to be the one to kill him is pretty well known, Boss._

Liquid grumbled mentally at that as the Genome Soldier turned, leaving. He moved, exiting the room in quick order. He needed to get to where Mantis was, soon. _I won't be fooled that easily. Try to read his mind while he tortures Snake, if you can. Figure out what he wants._

 _Got it._ Then, after a moment- _I can't do it, Boss. I think Ocelot is purposely using Snake's mind to shield his. I think he knows._

Liquid tensed at that thought. He knew his entire team knew about his own abilities, but if Ocelot knew that Snake's were the complete opposite… what else did Ocelot know? _Damn._

_Boss. We're going to have to make a decision soon about how to get Snake to do what we want._

He took a deep breath, thinking about that. They had the Silverburgh woman. They could put pressure on him about getting her back. Or- if he thought Ocelot had taken over, that they could help get her back. The thought made a soundless snarl come to his lips. But… oh hell, Mantis had been right. They would have to work with Snake. _Who is guarding Snake when Ocelot is not torturing him?_

_I believe it's Sasaki._

Hm. Sasaki had been known for his intestinal issues, and he was already in trouble for what happened with the Silverburgh woman, showing he was a bit of a fool as well to be caught by that woman's trap. He didn't wish to kill him, but it would be simple to wait for Sasaki to have more intestinal problems and… his lip curled at the thought. Break his brother out.

_I can put a little pressure on Sasaki as well to make him want to leave even earlier._

_That would work. Where are you?_

_Not where you need to be. Start heading towards the torture chamber and wait. I'll keep my attention on Sasaki and wait for him to see Snake awake._

He knew that was the best plan, but- a cold feeling nested in his chest, a pit that caused him to reach out to Mantis, unwitting.

 _Needy._ It felt like Mantis didn't even realize he thought it as his mind reached back, curling around Liquid's. _You're not the only one that doesn't like this. Nothing about this feels right._

_I should have killed Ocelot back on the Diamond Dogs base._

_Yes, the twelve year old should have killed the man with decades more experience than him. That would have gone well._

_Sarcasm doesn't become you, Mantis._

Amusement. _Well, Ocelot seems like he's about done with Snake. Sasaki's on alert._

Liquid slowly crept up towards the torture chambers, fragments of memories trembling, whispers of Arabic coming back to him as he did. He pressed himself up against the wall, stretching his physical senses, letting out a breath as he realized Ocelot was heading in the opposite direction. Quickly, he made notice of where the bathrooms were, creeping around so he would not be in Sasaki's line of sight when he would be making his mad dash. _Is Snake awake yet?_

_Sometimes I forget you're not twelve any longer, considering how impatient you can be._

_Just answer the question, Mantis._

_Not yet._

He let out a long breath, keeping it quiet as he carefully reached his mind out, away from Snake, trying to see if anyone was coming up to relieve Sasaki. Aware that it might also be Ocelot, he stretched his physical hearing as well, trying to hear that tell-tale footstep. But nothing. They were alone.

_Well, Snake's about as mature as you are. Sasaki's complaining about how much noise he's making._

Liquid tensed at that. _Do not compare myself to Snake like that._

_Sasaki's coming your way._

It was getting weary that Mantis would do such a thing, Liquid thought as Sasaki ran past him, face twisted in obvious distress. Not wasting a single second, he slipped behind him, making his way to the holding cells. When he got there, peeking in, he saw no one. Was Snake really in there? Frowning, he went to the door, grabbing his card key and hoped the master key still worked as it should and Ocelot didn't find a way to override it.

It still worked, and the door opened, showing a strange shadow under the bed, making Liquid snort. "I can see you under there," he said, his voice derisive. "And if you wish for yourself and the Silverburgh woman to live, dear brother, I would recommend coming out and following me."

_Very nice. Stirring speech._

But the shadow moved, and slowly, it turned into a man, movements pained but still wary. He stood tall, glaring at Liquid, and for a moment Liquid felt as if he was about to fall again, his head spinning.

The man in front of him could almost be a mirror. Shirtless, the muscle structure was almost the same, military born musculature. The skin was lighter, and the hair was darker, shorter. But the face was the same, a mirror of his own, and twisted into a wariness he had never seen himself. He felt as if he was seeing his own body from the outside-

And then a sudden grounding, and a mental slap upside the head. _No dissociating. It's not conductive to our plans._

Gratitude.

Liquid drew himself up tall. "Well hello there, brother. So nice to see you."

And Solid Snake only lifted his chin, narrowing his eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

"What are you playing at, Liquid?"

My, his twin had a gruff voice. He wondered if it was due to the cigarettes he could clearly still smell on Snake's body, or something else. "I'm hurt, dear brother." Liquid spread his hands, ignoring the mental snort from Mantis. "Can't a long lost twin do something nice?"

"I don't have any family."

Did their father not tell them about the project? About their own past, the way their genetics were toyed with to create the best soldier and the leftovers? "We don't have time to explain," Liquid told him shortly, lowering his hands and shifting his stance, trying to hear if Ocelot was returning. Or if Sasaki was returning, given he couldn't use his own mind due to Snake in front of him.

_Sasaki's still occupied. You should get Snake out of there as soon as you can since we can't keep a mind on Ocelot._

Mantis was short, strained. Snake's mind must be putting a strain on him. And speaking of Snake, his eyes sharpened at Liquid's words. "Why should I believe you?"

"Because if I'm right, you were the one to throw the flash grenade when my own soldiers started shooting at me." Liquid suppressed a smirk when Snake's hands flexed. "You are aware of the upset in command, or at least that I am no longer in control, as my own soldiers are out for my blood. Ocelot has taken control of this revolt, and his first demand was for the Genome Soldiers to bring him our heads." The lie came easily to his lips, as if it could be real with little trouble. "I've lost control of even Wolf and Raven."

"And you decided the enemy of my enemy is my friend," Snake growled.

It was sad how easily he believed Liquid. "At least my ally. Ocelot has both the DARPA chief and Baker's codes. He can activate Metal Gear Rex at any moment. At the barest minimum, we must stop that."

"Funny thing." Liquid felt a chill as doubt filled Snake's eyes. "The DARPA chief just happens to be in the cell with me, and he looks like he's been dead for days, not hours."

_Damn you, Ocelot._

He expected a response from Mantis, and had to remind himself of Snake's vortex of a mind when Mantis didn't fill his mind with impression of words or emotion at the thought. "Shadow Moses is home to a special type of maggot," he said, smoothly spinning another lie. "Decomposition happens much faster here than anywhere else. Before Ocelot launched his own revolt, we witnessed the death of one of Wolf's dogs, and the rate the dog decomposed, even in the snow, shocked us all."

The doubt slowly drained from Snake's eyes, leaving a slight wariness behind, as if he still didn't quite trust Liquid's words but couldn't refute them. That he didn't have enough information to refute them. Liquid only hoped the support team assigned to Snake did not have a survival expert attached to it. If an Alaskan expert was attached, his entire plan would be blown wide open.

"I've lived in Alaska for a while and I've never heard of this," Snake finally said.

"It's specific to this island. Please, we can retrieve your codec so you can ask your support team. You must have a survival expert." He was playing with fire at that moment, he knew. But if he was right…

Snake narrowed his eyes. "I have a codec. And… they were unable to get Master Miller to agree. I don't have a survival expert. What you're saying sounds like bullshit, but I don't know enough about Shadow Moses to say it is for certain."

… Miller? He had seen the name for past members of FOXHOUND. McDonell Benedict Miller. But something about the name made him twitch, uneasy. And why would Miller not agree to the mission? The last mission Snake had been on for FOXHOUND had ended in Big Boss's death. Perhaps out of his leader's memory, he wouldn't help the man that killed him?

"And you don't have much more time to sit here and argue with me," Liquid pointed out. "Ocelot will be back at any moment, and he enjoys his work. Perhaps a bit too much. He will get what he wants from you, no matter how much you resist."

Snake's eyes narrowed at that. "You said you can save Meryl. How?"

"I know where she would be held. I can retrieve her while you stop the activation of Metal Gear. Once you have foiled Ocelot's plan, I will return her to you."

"Hm." Snake pulled himself up straighter, and Liquid could see him make his decision to trust him, if barely. "Where's my gear?"

"It should be nearby." Liquid shifted as Snake made his way out of the cell, his body language still wary, as if he expected Liquid to attack him at any moment. "Snake… did you receive an injection before you were sent on your way?"

"An injection?"

"Yes, an injection. Did a doctor give you any sort of injection to help you on this mission?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

The virus. It had to be. Snake was the carrier. The thought ran through him, bringing alarm with it. "You may wish to ask the good doctor what was in that injection. Too many odd occurrences have happened since you have arrived."

At the way Snake's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched, he thought the same. "I will," he said, voice not betraying not much more than the distrust he had shown Liquid since the beginning.

Liquid nodded at him. "I will work on retrieving Silverburgh. You work on stopping Metal Gear Rex. When our paths cross next, well… with hope, we will both have succeeded in our missions."

Snake nodded, turning to leave and find his gear. Liquid left as well, elation filling his limbs. His brother was truly that stupid. He truly believed Liquid that easily.

_It makes our job easier._

_It certainly does._ Liquid felt a rush of relief as he felt Mantis's voice in his head again. _I assume you won't be able to speak with me when Snake is around._

_Not easily. I'm a lot stronger than you so I can do it, but it'll take a lot of concentration I don't think I can spare._

_I see._ It would made things harder, but if things continued how they currently were going, he would need Mantis elsewhere. _What Snake said about a doctor injecting him with something… I hadn't heard of any doctors with FOXHOUND that would have done any sort of thing._

_A civilian contractor?_

_Perhaps._ He wracked his mind, trying to remember who he had staff as a contractor. Ocelot would remember better than he would, but his game had him against Ocelot.

He felt Mantis comb through his memories, bringing up ones he knew he had forgotten. _Hm. Try to get more information out of Snake about who it is and about what she says about herself. Some of the stuff I'm seeing about your memories about this Hunter woman is a little fishy._

_I love how you're just now telling me this, Mantis._

_I don't live in your head, Eli. Not anymore._

The words hit him hard, a strange mix of fondness for him using the name he had used when they were children and loss at Mantis reminding him they were different. That Mantis no longer was Tretij, the boy he had-

_Please finish that thought. I want to know what it is._

_If you don't live in my head, then you're free to leave at any moment._

Hesitation.

Then-

_You're still going to need me, Boss._

Liquid closed his eyes as he took cover, feeling a soldier's mind come close. A deep breath filled his lungs as he tried to calm himself, tried to shake what he felt at Mantis's words. _You may be right._

_I'll let you know what happens about Snake the best I can._

And then Mantis pulled out of his head, leaving Liquid alone and empty.


	25. Chapter 25

_Wolf's dead._

_I am quite aware of that._ He had felt her life die in his head. It wasn't a surprise. He knew what he had planned would most likely end in her and Raven's deaths. It sold the illusion better that way. But it still made him a little testy that Mantis would announce it in such a way, and that he was losing useful people just for this play.

_I stayed in her head as long as I could. It wasn't a heart attack._

Liquid stopped where he was, thankful no guards were around. _No?_

_She died of her wounds. If it was the virus, it would have given her enough time to die of a heart attack._

The implications resonated in the bond between them. Either the virus was targeted for specific members, much like how the vocal cord parasite had been targeted for specific languages, and Wolf wasn't part of the programming… or it was mutating. Liquid himself had been in the presence of Snake, who they considered the vector of the virus… and he was fine. Was it that he wasn't in the programming as well, or that it had mutated and it was now a wildcard inside him?

It didn't matter. Even if the virus took his life, as long as he died after his twin, it was enough.

Slowly, he made his way to where Mantis was staying, feeling bored. There wasn't much he could do while Snake was activating Rex. Sneaking around occupied his thoughts only so long. They couldn't keep track of Ocelot psychically, and keeping track of him physically would only be tiring. _Dear old brother said he had a codec. Have you gotten his frequency?_

_Straight from Emmerich's mind._

_When I get there, I'm going to give Snake a call. Let him know that I've holed up in a 'safe spot' and to let me know when he's about to 'deactivate' Metal Gear so I may live up to my side of the bargain._

_And you say sarcasm doesn't become me, Boss._

Liquid ignored that as he slipped behind a soldier, making his way down the hall to a very familiar door. He opened it, seeing Mantis sitting in a very familiar chair behind a very familiar desk, feet kicked up on the wood. _You do know that is technically my chair and my desk and you can float._

 _It's a very nice chair and you were busy elsewhere._ Liquid felt Mantis pull scarred lips into a grin as he rose up off the chair, floating over to him. _And you haven't told me to leave this room yet._

_You're so thin you would freeze, even with your coat. It's warm here._

Liquid didn't realize the quiet fond thoughts had welled up until Mantis stopped coming closer. He looked up at Mantis, remembering when a shock of red hair used to fall over his gas mask, and wondered when it stopped doing so. When Mantis lost his blood hair.

 _Just call your brother._ The thought was quiet, almost as if he forced it out so Liquid could hear it.

Almost in a daze, Liquid found the codec behind the desk and dialed the frequency Mantis provided him. He didn't know what was happening anymore. He almost felt… almost… felt the fragment of Eli again. Of that child, who would entwine his thoughts so deeply with Tretij's that he didn't know where he ended and Tretij began. Of…

"Why hello, dear brother!" Liquid Snake came out of his mouth as his mind reeled, catching and skipping over who he was, who he had been. "I only wanted to let you know I have Silverburgh, safe and sound. She's a bit out of it, poor girl. I don't think I'll be able to wake her. But I'm in the commander's office until further notice, keeping her safe and warm. I'll return her to you when you are about to deactivate Metal Gear."

"Liquid." At least Snake didn't sound like him. It helped his mind stop skipping, smooth a bit. "Are you sure Meryl's okay?"

"She's alive." His voice turned flat on those words. "And you still have to live up to your end of the bargain, dear Snake."

Snake growled a little. "How did you get this frequency?"

"Oh, this? Just a little secret I have."

"Liquid…"

"Never you mind. How far are you in deactivating Metal Gear?"

"I still only have one key. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Well, figure it out faster. Ocelot should be activating Metal Gear at any time now."

"Hnn." Snake fell silent for a moment, then- "I asked. About the injection."

Liquid leaned forward a little, placing one hand on the desk. "And?"

"Naomi didn't give me a straight answer."

"Naomi. Hunter, I presume? I had a Dr. Naomi Hunter as a civilian contractor since 2003." _It was 2003, correct, Mantis?_

_Correct._

"Yeah."

_Her file was a little too neat and tidy, wasn't it?_

"It's weird. She says she got into genetics because she never knew her parents, but she knew her grandfather was in the FBI."

Mantis instantly floated closer, and Liquid could feel him rifling through his memories in the FBI. "That sort of thing isn't in a person's file, Snake. I wouldn't have known it."

_Ask him. What she said._

"What was it she said? I know a bit about the FBI."

Snake grunted. "Something about him being Japanese and being a special undercover investigator. I think during the 50's in New York."

 _Bullshit._ Mantis pressed information into Liquid's mind all at once, making his eyes water at the information overload. Once it settled, Liquid examined it… and his eyes narrowed.

"She was lying. The timeline doesn't match up: The first undercover investigations started in the 1960s in Chicago. And given the racism at that time… her grandfather would not even be in the FBI. She may be a spy for Ocelot and she may have injected you with something that will harm you later. Be careful, Snake."

"Just keep Meryl safe." Instead of waiting for Liquid to respond, Snake signed off.

 _Blasted doctor._ Liquid ground his teeth, slamming a hand against the desk. _I would bet my life that she injected him with this virus. And we don't know what it does other than the heart attacks. We are not sure when they happen, or who they target. It's not like the vocal cord parasite. We knew who that targeted._

 _After we activate Rex, we can demand a cure._ Mantis floated closer. _If the Hunter woman made the virus, she should have a cure for it._

_Then Snake should hurry. We have no clue what the life cycle of this virus is._

_You worry too much._ Mantis stopped next to him. _Eli-_

So much worry packed into that one impression, the memory of a boy on the cusp of adulthood trying to find his place melding with an adult fractured and inexpertly put back together- Liquid reached out without thinking, and his fingers curled around Mantis's. _If you're part of the programming, you will die too._

_You care too much._

_Mantis-_

If only they could have read Ocelot's mind. If only they had known.

The rapport of the revolver rang through the air.

And Mantis slumped against Liquid, fragments of his skull painting the wall, the blazing fire that lived in Liquid's mind, in Eli's mind since he and Mantis, he and Tretij were twelve went out.

"FOXDIE was taking too long," Ocelot said lazily, the revolver spinning in his remaining hand. "And did you think I didn't see what you were doing, Eli? The little plan you had, going behind my back?"

Slowly, Liquid put Mantis down. The world around him shook, burned. He turned to Ocelot, his gun forgotten in his hand as the busts around them shattered into dust. With slow, measured steps, he walked around the desk, the wood creaking and fracturing as he did so. He could see fire wreathing his arms, not burning him, but almost a visual of his wrath as he stared at Ocelot, intent on tearing him apart.

Ocelot only smiled, smugly. Then aimed, shooting the gun out of Liquid's hand. "Now, now, Boss. None of that. And I know how you're going to feel in just a few seconds. You're not made to do this, Boss. Not like Tretij was." He aimed again as Liquid's balance wavered, knowing Ocelot was right. Knowing he couldn't maintain this telekinetic fury, knowing unless he got his gun back and shot Ocelot this was the end but his mind almost felt scooped out _Tretij was dead this man killed him-_

He blinked, his ears ringing. Another gunshot? Had… he collapsed to his knees, his mind filling with cotton. He felt alive. Was he alive?

Tretij was dead. Was he dead too?

Hand on his shoulder. He looked up, seeing his own face. Then back down to the floor.

Was he dead? Had Ocelot killed him?

Finally, his hearing came back, a gruff voice filling his ears. "Come on, Liquid. Don't check out on me here."

Snake. The face he saw wasn't his own. It was Snake's. If he heard Snake, he was alive. Ocelot hadn't killed him. Snake… Snake had saved him? Liquid chuckled, the noise lacking humor and broken. "Please tell me you killed him."

"He got away." The hand left his shoulder, and for a moment he felt ungrounded. Liquid clenched his fists, trying to chase the cotton feeling away in his head. Trying to ground himself. Trying not to pass out like he had as a child, like- "… I'm sorry. I'll… leave you alone with Mantis."

Liquid chuckled again, shaking his head. "I don't need your pity, Snake."

"It's not pity. It's sympathy."

Finally, Liquid looked up at him again, his head spinning at seeing his own face. And Tretij wasn't there to ground him- "I am fine. How far are you in deactivating Metal Gear?"

"I have Otacon working on it. Hal Emmerich," he clarified at Liquid's blank look. "He wanted his own code name."

Otacon. It must be something related to engineering. "I see."

Snake shifted away as Liquid stood, standing as well once Liquid was steady on his feet. His eyes took in the wreckage around him, then turned back to Liquid. "You must have really cared about him."

"Just focus on Metal Gear," Liquid said, his voice sharp.

For a moment, Snake continued to look at him, then he nodded, leaving. Liquid knew there was a reason he had come by, but he didn't care to ask what it was, and it seemed Snake had forgotten what it was when he saw what happened. And it didn't matter.

It didn't…

He needed Rex. He would smear Ocelot across the floor with it's foot. Make the world _burn_ , like he had promised Tretij. He would-

He didn't know what escaped his throat, if it was a scream, sob, or a unholy mix of both.


	26. Chapter 26

The room was a complete and utter mess. Plaster dust everywhere, and the desk had been crushed into splinters. What did his dear twin think of this? Did he see Liquid's mind lash out, destroy as much as he could in his fury? He put a hand to his head, trying to shake the cotton there. Ocelot was right; he wasn't made to do such things. It made his fury ache dully in his chest at the thought that Ocelot knew. That he knew he was more than just psychic, that he knew Liquid's entire past. Perhaps he even knew his origin, the altering of his genetic code.

Slowly, he walked over to Mantis, to his Tretij, kneeling beside him. His fingers brushed over the bare skull exposed, covered in sticky blood, and lifted his hand to look at the fluid staining his glove.

His soldiers wouldn't be seeing his brother if he left now. They would be seeing him. Tretij wouldn't be forcing them to see Snake when Liquid walked.

This was pathetic! He had seen death before. In fact, he had been the _cause_ of it, more times than he could count! Why did seeing one underweight psychic limp on the floor with a hole in his head affect him so much? It should not do such a thing. He had taken down many with headshots like this. He had seen allies drop from head wounds like this before. Then… then why…

Beeping. The codec. Liquid took a deep breath. Only one person would call on a codec. Only one person had his frequency. The others used Mantis or knew he would hear their thoughts. It was safer to use thoughts than a frequency that could be intercepted. A codec call could only be his twin. Letting out the breath, Liquid answered, not sure what would come out of his mouth. "Hello, Snake."

"Liquid." Snake's voice was almost… hesitant. "Otacon and I have figured out the key. How are you holding up?"

Already? How long had he been kneeling there over Tretij? Time meant nothing anymore. "Have you deactivated Metal Gear?" he asked instead of answering his brother, knowing his words were sharp.

"Just one more. I just… had some questions. Like- what happened? It looked like Mantis put up one hell of a fight against Ocelot." Liquid tried not to snort. Of course Snake would think all of the destruction was Mantis, not his own twin's mind. "And- why do you keep calling me brother?"

"Because we are brothers. My own father was Big Boss himself, and we shared a womb. We were separated at birth, and I sent to England."

Snake fell silent at that. "I never knew," he finally said, his voice solemn.

"At least you had a much kinder revelation than I," Liquid told him, his voice short. "Let me know when you are about to deactivate Metal Gear. I will be there with Silverburgh."

"Where is she? I didn't see her in that mess."

"She's here." Liquid felt his voice tighten. "Just-"

"Okay." Liquid was about to sign off when Snake spoke up. "What does Ocelot want with Metal Gear?"

What were they going to do with Metal Gear? Before all of this- Liquid closed his eyes, trying to think. If Tretij was- he could just pull it out of Liquid's mind- "He wants to join forces with Sergei Gurlukovich's forces and continue Father's dream of Outer Heaven." That was all he could remember, and that was Liquid's own dream. The one he wanted for himself, the idea of a place he could live without someone trying to puppet him. And instead- Ocelot had used him more than any government had.

And Tretij paid for it.

"We're going to stop him," Snake promised. "We'll make him pay for Mantis."

A thick chuckle rose to Liquid's lips at how even now, Snake had no clue how he had been used by both Liquid and Tretij up to this point. "Yes. We will."

Liquid was the first to sign off, leaving him to look at Tretij. He had red hair once… it didn't look like he shaved it. It looked like it had fallen out. Liquid ran his fingers over the bare skin, remembering that hair.

"What did you do to me, Tretij?" he whispered. "Did you modify my mind as children? Was it because we spent so much time speaking with our minds?" He grabbed Tretij's shoulders, shaking them. "Did I give you permission to die, Mantis? Did I give you permission to leave my mind alone and cold, Tretij?! You promised you would put me back together!"

Recklessly, he reached out, trying to find a mind he remembered. He felt his men's minds… but no FOXHOUND minds. He hadn't even noticed when Raven's fire went out. It was just him and Ocelot left. If Ocelot was still around.

Which would leave Liquid, and the FOXDIE in his blood. With whatever it was supposed to do in its due time, killing him like the others.

He couldn't die. Not until Ocelot's blood stained the walls and he had Snake's death.

Slowly, he stood, turning to leave. He had to retrieve Silverburgh before Snake was ready. If anything, he could give his brother one last happy moment for working so hard for him. Give him the woman, let him have one last moment holding her before he killed them both.

Let him have one thing he never would have.

He didn't bother hiding as he walked. And it didn't matter. His men saluted him as he walked. They didn't see his brother now as he walked. It didn't even seem that Ocelot had said anything to them. They only treated him as if they hadn't seen him like an enemy only minutes ago. He paid them no attention as he picked up Silverburgh walking back towards Rex's hangar with her.

Oh. The codec again. Liquid answered, shifting Silverburgh. "Hello, dear brother."

Snake grunted. "I'm about to enter the third key."

"Good. I'm almost at the hangar now."

"… if you don't have a heart attack from FOXDIE after this, we can have Naomi work on a vaccine for the both of us."

Snake would be dead first. "I see she's dropped the facade."

"They arrested her."

That should have made him feel better. It didn't. But he was close to the control room, so Liquid signed off, entering behind Snake. "Here's the woman," he told him shortly, putting Silverburgh down. Wolf had patched her up well. She wasn't even bleeding. He turned to leave, intent on heading towards Rex once Snake activated it.

"What are you going to do after this?"

Liquid paused. Most likely be dead of a heart attack. But if he lived…

What would he do?

He didn't answer. Snake didn't move behind him for a moment, then he heard his brother shift, and the sound of him entering the third card key.

"PAL code number three confirmed. PAL code entry complete… Detonation code activated."

Liquid only walked towards Rex. He heard Snake run after him, and the sound of a gun being aimed in his direction. "Liquid! You used me."

Slowly, Liquid turned, a mad smile coming to his lips. "Mantis and I both, brother. And you performed beautifully."

"Did Ocelot really lead a revolt behind your back?"

Laughter bubbled to Liquid's lips, no sanity left in the noise. "He wasn't on my side, if that was your question. He killed the DARPA chief to keep information from me. But I will see both of your deaths." Liquid spread his arms, letting himself laugh freely. "I will continue what Father so rightly denied me! What Ocelot stopped me! I have waited since I was twelve for this moment, and I will rightly take my revenge on a world that only wished to push me aside."

"So that's all this is? Revenge?"

Liquid snarled. "We were never our own person, Snake. We are clones, our genes plucked directly from the man they considered the best soldier, Big Boss. Our fate was written in our genes. You were to be the beloved, perfectly crafted to be the superior twin. But someone had to have the leftovers… and he is standing in front of you. I was always going to be the scraps, watching you get what I always wanted. But now… now, I have another Metal Gear, and no Father to destroy this one like he did Sahelanthropus. I will take what is rightfully mine now, and take your death." With those words, he ran for Rex, managing to dodge a bullet before entering the cockpit.

Lines of activation ran under his fingertips, waiting for him. Not quite familiar, as another scientist had worked on it. But it was enough. The cockpit closed and the world around him illuminated, showing him the outside in radar. Rex was made to be impossible to defeat. Impossible to hit.

His laughter continued, manically as he aimed missiles at Snake. It didn't matter if they didn't hit. It didn't matter any of it didn't hit. He would kill Snake. He would kill him, step on him, he would-

The display flickered as Rex was hit.

Enraged, Liquid fired more missiles, trying to find Snake. Trying to stomp on him. He would win! He would-

The display flickered again.

And again.

And then his mind-

Shattered.

It wasn't his mind, he realized distantly. Tretij had warned of another mind on Shadow Moses that had been ripped apart and put back together like how Liquid's had been. That it was barely a mind anymore. It was true. But what Tretij hadn't told him was how overwhelming it was. Not psychic, but _deafening_ in close quarters. And the mind was holding Rex's leg, keeping him from killing his brother.

He didn't notice when the cockpit opened.

Or that he was screaming, dashing him to the floor and stepping on him. The way the exoskeleton crushed under Rex's foot… didn't satisfy him in the least. It should have been Snake. It should have been Ocelot. The fire he felt die shouldn't have been a relief, but satisfaction.

"Liquid!"

He snarled, whipping Rex to meet Snake. "Die!"

He really should have expected the Stinger missile to the face.

He could feel Rex's lines of activation die. Again. What was rightfully his was gone. Stolen by family.

Again.

Everything was taken.

He was going to take Snake's life. No matter what.


	27. Chapter 27

Another Metal Gear. Destroyed. By his own kin, by his own blood. Liquid stumbled out of the wreckage, pulling himself up tall as he surveyed the scene. A savage glee rose within him at the sight of his twin at a heap against the wall, the crumpled limbs looking broken and devoid of life. But when he drew close, he saw that Snake still drew breath, and he was still whole, still able to fight once he regained consciousness.

Good. Liquid clenched his hands. If he couldn't use Rex to kill Snake, he would beat him down with his bare hands. He looked up at Rex, considering. A good way to finish this would be atop the Metal Gear, so that if either of them fell it would be to their death. Snake seemed out of it enough that he would be able to take him to the top with ease.

No.

No, he was going to die right here. Right now. Liquid was going to squeeze the life out of him right now. A mad chuckle escaped his lips as he flipped Snake over, making it easy for him to reach for his throat.

Snake's eyes snapped open, and he grabbed Liquid's wrists. With a deft turn, he slammed Liquid into the wall as he rolled to his feet. Liquid only straightened up as Snake let go, letting his lips stretch in a snarl. For the best. He wanted a fight. He wanted to _win._ Liquid drew back a fist, intent on slamming it into Snake's face.

It was caught before it could come close to Snake's face. Before Liquid could wrench his arm free, Snake twisted, forcing Liquid to his knees, the arm forced up behind him. "I'm not about to fight a grieving man," Snake said into his ear. "I don't know anything about what happened between you and Big Boss, or anything about us being clones or anything like that. But I know you're not in your right mind right now."

Liquid growled, struggling in his grasp. A part of him said he should be able to break the grasp easily. This shouldn't be so difficult. But- He bucked in Snake's grasp, ignoring how his shoulder felt. It could dislocate for all he cared. All he needed- all he-

"Liquid!" The hand on his wrist tightened. "I'm not the one you want to kill."

"I've wanted nothing but to kill you for years!"

"It's Ocelot you want to kill." Snake pulled his arm up a little higher when Liquid snarled at the words. "I'm just the convenient target right now. And if we fight right now and I kill you, you won't be able to take your revenge."

The words hit Liquid hard. If he fought Snake now… his chest started to hurt at the thought. Even now, he could be putting himself at risk of FOXDIE taking him. If he fought Snake, he might strain his body so FOXDIE took him. And then- then, he would not be able to kill Ocelot. He would not be able to see that man pay for what he did.

Slowly, Snake let him go. Liquid almost reached his mind out, almost wanted to see what his twin was thinking before he remembered, and held back. Instead, he placed both hands on the ground, looking at how his coat pooled around his arms. He settled back on his heels, looking down at the bullet holes left in his coat by his and Tretij's little play. Blood speckled the fabric.

Tretij's blood speckled the fabric.

With a scream, he slammed a fist into the ground.

He didn't look at Snake when he got up. "After I kill Ocelot, I will kill you," he promised. "Make sure to live until then."

"Heh." Snake nodded at him. "That's what I thought you would say."

"Just leave," he snarled. It was starting to grate on him how unnatural it was to talk aloud. He had spent so much of his time on Shadow Moses physically silent, only speaking psychically to Tretij. He wanted to rant, to rave, to make noise, but it felt so unnatural. His mind felt so empty yet packed, having overreached his own psychic abilities.

He didn't notice when Snake left. He wished he could. He wished he knew where his brother's mind was at all times. But he didn't. He just knew when he looked up, Snake had gone. Probably taken Silverburgh with him. Liquid touched his chest, feeling the ache. Was he about to have the FOXDIE heart attack? Was he about to make himself a liar?

… he hadn't survived the vocal cord parasite and escaped the napalm just for a silly virus to take him out here, before he could watch Ocelot's life die in his hands and make Snake pay for taking what was rightfully his. FOXDIE was not about to make a liar out of him.

But… where would he go? If he stayed, he would face death. The government would be sending something to clear out Shadow Moses in due time. If not a nuclear strike, then a team to verify the deaths of the terrorists and to mop up any remaining insurgents. He would need to leave. His men should not be treated poorly… they had just been following orders, and at Tretij's death, many of them would most likely start denouncing Liquid's actions as his brainwashing wore off.

But Liquid himself…

He would just need to leave. Escape. Live.

And kill Ocelot and Snake another day.

He would need to go somewhere safe. But he didn't quite know Alaska well enough to know where a good place to hole up could be. He knew Snake had been living up in this area, but he didn't need his brother's help for this. There were other options.

Hm. Didn't Snake say there had been an Alaskan wilderness expert they had tried to get on his team? Miller? The name rang a bell deeper than the memory of words printed on a piece of paper, uneasy. But it would be a start. This Miller would be able to give him tips for the Alaskan wilderness, and he would be able to use it as he started down through Canada back into the United States. He wasn't sure where he would go from there, but he had a feeling he could find a contact in the United States that could help him hunt down Ocelot. He just needed someone that knew Alaska.

Which, now that he thought about it… may be a problem. He knew where Miller was… intellectually. Finding him wouldn't be too much of a difficulty… had he the proper equipment. As it was, he wasn't sure if he could scrounge it up.

… well then. It would be a challenge. Hunting was always a sport he enjoyed. And now… he was after ocelots. The first step… was Miller.

  


* * *

  


The FOXHOUND file had been just thorough enough that Liquid found Miller's cabin with minimal difficulty. Snake and Silverburgh had apparently lifted a snowmobile to escape, though thankfully there were multiple snowmobiles and all Liquid had to do was start another one and leave the island. From there… well, Alaska and Iraq felt strangely similar in its bleakness. Certainly, he had been surrounded by soldiers in Iraq, and been shuffled from town to town with stops to find insurgents, but the landscape had a similar eeriness to it.

He almost felt that Arabic would escape his lips when he finally found Miller.

When he first caught sight of the cabin, he checked his weapons. He didn't have any backup now. It was just him. If Miller was hostile, he would need to be able to fight back. And he had a full magazine for his gun, as well as three magazines in his coat pocket. If it came down to it, he was prepared.

And with that thought, he abandoned the snowmobile, walking up to the cabin. Idly, he reached out with his mind, seeing if anyone was around. He was pleased to find that Miller was indeed inside, and indeed knew he was there. But the mind felt familiar. Like he had-

Liquid stopped just in front of the door, his eyes wide with shock.

The door opened, only to have Kazuhira Miller point a gun in his face, still leaning heavily on his cane. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want anyone from FOXHOUND contacting me ever again," he said, his voice cold.

"I assume you have cameras set up along the perimeter," Liquid said, Eli said, voice thick with surprise.

Miller's eyes narrowed. "And you haven't explained why you're here."

"And you, Kazuhira Miller, have not explained why you're going by 'McDonell Benedict Miller.'"

"How do you know that name?"

He chuckled. "I'm crushed you don't remember me. Did I and my troops make that little of an impact on you back on the Diamond Dogs base?"

It was almost audible when it clicked. "… Eli?"

Miller didn't have the right to use that name. Only Tretij had that right. He should rip Miller's tongue out for daring-

"It's starting to snow again," he said mildly. "May I come in?"


	28. Chapter 28

Miller had _dogs._

Liquid carefully picked his way around them, a little shocked at how friendly they were. Wolf's dogs hadn't nearly been this friendly. Awkwardly, he reached down, patting one on the head as he went.

He could hear Miller shutting the door behind him, his cane tapping against the floor as he moved. "Not that I'm actually happy to see you alive and actually not infected," he said as Liquid turned to him, watching Miller shift his stance to look at him. "But it's been over twenty years, and you were pretty adamant about killing all of us then."

It wasn't a memory he had let go. Liquid took a deep breath, crossing his arms, trying to ignore the dogs. "I quite remember that. It's not out of ignorance that I'm here. You were asked to be part of my brother's team during his infiltration of Shadow Moses since you are an expert of the Alaskan wilderness."

Shock ran through Miller's mind, questions of how he knew that before coming to the rather correct conclusion that Liquid had been on the side of the terrorists. Under all of that had been the question of how he knew, and- guilt.

Liquid's eyes narrowed.

"I am indeed an expert," Miller finally said, his voice almost cold. "That doesn't explain why you're here."

"I need information. I need to make my way back to the continental United States undetected. To do so, I need to avoid as many people as possible and stick to the wilderness."

"And you want my advice."

"I always knew you were smart, Miller," Liquid chuckled.

"You grew into a mouthy adult," Miller told him, his mind full of distrust, unamused at the entire proceedings.

Liquid tilted his gaze towards Miller's gun hand, gauging with eye and mind if he was going to be hostile soon. It seemed like curiosity was winning out so far… "Let me speak plainly," he said abruptly. "Yes. I was the instigator of the events that required Snake to be deployed. At one point, Ocelot dethroned me and turned the base against me and the sole member of FOXHOUND that remained loyal to me, Psycho Mantis." He felt Miller's mind war with how Liquid spoke so calmly about being a terrorist ready to launch nuclear threat on the war with his immense hatred of Ocelot, a vast history behind it. "I will speak even more plainly to you than I did Snake: I did use Snake to activate Metal Gear Rex."

"You just couldn't leave Metal Gears alone, could you?" Miller's voice was icy.

Leather creaked as Liquid flexed his hands. "I am quite aware of the Les Enfants Terribles project. And that I am the leftovers from the project, the pieces that would not make the perfect soldier that is my brother."

Miller's head reared back slightly. "We had done a genetic test on you back on the base," he told him. "We suspected. Your age and where we found you made me think you could be him. But- well, your DNA didn't match his." Liquid didn't have time to feel more than shock before Miller chuckled darkly. "I should have known then."

"I- what?"

"Only bitter memories."

Oh no he didn't. Liquid narrowed his eyes, reaching out and-

His eyes widened.

"That man was a _body double_?!"

"I- how did you-"

Liquid chuckled, the noise without humor. "My, I thought you would have figured out how I was so good at sneaking around the base and reading your movements."

There was a moment of silence while Miller's mind worked, and Liquid for some reason only felt tired when he came to a conclusion. "They told me Big Boss had latent psychic abilities and they had tried to make a perfect soldier with all his best abilities, including his psychic ones."

Something- dropped, inside Liquid's head. "No. No, I'm the rejects. I am not the perfect soldier. That is Snake, Solid Snake, David-"

"Easy there." Miller's voice didn't soften, only harden to a military degree. "I'm only repeating what I was told. If they actually did it, I don't know. But it would make sense that one of you would have something. So you were reading our minds?"

"I- was." He couldn't catch onto a fragment- he had always known he was inferior but-

"Hm." Miller shifted, his cane tapping. "So. You used Snake to activate Metal Gear. I take it Snake won."

Liquid nodded, his mind still floating.

"Soldier." The bark made his back straighten. Miller stared at him, curiosity running through his mind. "And then what happened?"

"What you have to know is Ocelot killed Mantis." His hands flexed. "And for that, I will have his head. I let Snake go so I may have Ocelot's death first. So I may-"

Miller jumped as glass shattered, a picture frame swaying drunkenly on the wall. He pointed the gun at Liquid, wariness filling both body and mind as the dogs growled at Liquid. "Didn't think anyone would mean anything to you, Eli."

"Only Mantis could call me that," Liquid muttered, putting a hand to his head. He shouldn't have done that, not so soon after losing control after Tretij's death. "You don't have the right, you don't- Only Tretij had the right- he-"

After a moment, he could hear Miller holster the gun. "You're in no shape to go after Ocelot," he said bluntly. "That man has agents everywhere. And he _will_ take advantage of the fact you're torn up over this Mantis. Not to mention you aren't go anywhere today. You'll have the time to move your snowmobile somewhere it won't get buried, but it's snowing too hard for you to go anywhere considering you don't know Alaska."

Liquid glared at him. "I will not stay here."

"You're here in a FOXHOUND issued coat, not proper snow gear. If you want to freeze to death, be my guest. Otherwise, I have one spare pillow, a blanket, a couch, and a fire."

Liquid looked down at the dogs. Then at Miller. "Why are you doing this?"

Miller's thoughts spun before he sighed. "There was a lot I could have done for you," he said quietly. "For all of you. And I failed. I guess… there's still something I can do for you. If I can make it so you don't rush out and get yourself killed or worse because you're still blind with grief over the death of the man you loved… it's something, I guess."

There was something… bittersweet under those words. Liquid started to reach his mind out, then decided against it. He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer. "… I will stay the night."

Miller nodded.

"… we will revisit this discussion in the morning."

With those words, he went to move the snowmobile so it wouldn't be buried, refusing to let Miller's words about Tretij haunt him. Refusing to let himself dwell on his death, of the half-realized emotion that had passed between them that Miller had just put a name to, had just made him face.

He would revisit the entire discussion in the morning.


	29. Chapter 29

"Her name is Amanda." Miller sat down across from Liquid, settling his cane against the table as he set his mug down. The scent of coffee reached Liquid's nose as he pulled his hand away from the dog's head, feeling embarrassed he was caught running his fingers through her fur. Undeterred, Amanda nudged his hand, intent on making him start stroking her head again. "So. Walk me through your plan. You want to kill Ocelot for… what? Taking over your revolt? Killing your lover?"

"You don't know what you speak of," Liquid told him flatly, giving into Amanda's demands and stroking her fur once more.

"I know you used the code name for the child working for XOF when referring to your teammate last night as if it was his real name and use it fondly."

"For all intents and purposes, it was his real name." His birth name had burned when his village had turned into ashes. At one point, Liquid had caught onto it before Tretij had forcibly shoved it out. That boy had died. "Any name forced upon him was a mask. At least that mask he chose to keep."

Miller only took a sip of coffee. Liquid narrowed his eyes, reaching his mind out.

 _He's denying it. Or else he doesn't realize. Both that and what he's gotten himself into._ Miller put his coffee down, clearing his throat. "I'm aware you most likely read my mind to hear that," he said bluntly.

"It doesn't matter what I've gotten myself into," Liquid told him, his fingers stopping on Amanda's head. "I must kill Ocelot. And then-"

"And then?" Miller's voice was hard, icy. "What do you plan on doing? Killing Snake? Taking revenge on someone that didn't have a choice in anything that happened to him? He didn't know about the Les Enfants Terribles projects. He didn't purposely do anything he did because he wanted to be better than you. He's been used as much as you have, Eli."

Liquid twitched.

 _You don't like it when I call you Eli._ Miller let his mental voice be blunt, and pointed directly at Liquid instead of being a rumination.

"It was a designation given to me," Liquid snarled. "Something my handlers could call me that wasn't "hey you." It wasn't a _name._ Nyoka ya Mpembe was my name and you tried to strip that of me. It was something I finally had for myself."

Miller only watched him as he spat the words, his human hand wrapped around his mug of coffee. Then, he said, voice hard with a note pulling at the soldier inside him, "I can feel my mug vibrating in my hand. Bring it down a notch."

Slowly, Liquid took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to overreach himself now. He would have to calm himself.

"You didn't answer my question." Liquid could see Miller's eyes narrowing behind the aviators. "What do you plan on doing?"

Kill Snake. Take revenge against Ciper, against the people that made him and abused him and-

"If you shatter my favorite mug in my hand, I will shoot you."

Liquid took another deep breath.

After a moment, Miller sat back in his seat. "You're too much a mess right now to go after Ocelot," he said bluntly. "I wasn't kidding when I said he has agents everywhere. And you can't ever tell who he's actually working for. When Big Boss was still alive, there was a more than 50% chance he at least had some loyalty to him, but-" Miller shook his head. "Even then, Ocelot had outside interests. If you try to go after him when you can't even talk to me without almost blowing something up, you're not going to last very long."

"Then what do you suggest, oh so wise one?" Liquid spat, glaring at him.

"Hole up somewhere and take some time to actually grieve." Miller's lips curved without humor. "Sometimes, after you hear that someone you love was killed, even if he was a monster by the end of it, you just need to escape for a while."

"Please tell me you're not speaking of my father," Liquid said flatly.

"You can read my mind. You tell me."

"I would rather not." Liquid pulled his hand away from Amanda's head, and she walked away as if sensing the air between them. "So you suggest I isolate myself and plan until I'm more stable and go after him. I am afraid to tell you that stability and I have a working relationship since my time as a POW in Iraq."

"I noticed," Miller said dryly. "Another option is to stay here. I worked with Ocelot, and I remember a few of the things he would do. Having another person around to talk to about… Mantis would most likely help you as well."

He didn't use Tretij. It both felt right - he didn't have the right - and wrong. Even Psycho Mantis had been a name forced on him, a FOXHOUND issued code name. "You want me to stay here."

"I'm giving you options." Miller's voice didn't soften. "It's up to you what you do. If you decide to follow your original plan, I can give you pointers on the best way to make it to Canada and a contact I have there. If you leave to isolate yourself, the nearest town is a three hours away, and you'll need to go there about once a month for things you can't find out here. I recommend getting a dog." Miller leaned forward. "If you stay here, I have spare rooms. I won't treat you like glass, as you probably guessed. But I will help you."

It sounded so… tempting. To stay with someone willing to ally himself to Liquid's cause. He reached out, his mind to Miller's, trying to see why he was doing this.

_I wanted something more for you, Eli. For all of your troops. Ocelot's starting to become the monster Big Boss became. Someone needs to stop him._

"Don't call me Eli."

"Then what should I call you?" Miller asked, his voice mild.

For a moment, Liquid didn't know what to say. He wasn't Eli… he wasn't Nyoka ya Mpembe… but he wasn't Liquid Snake. Not anymore. "Liquid," he finally said, leaving off the second part of his code name. He couldn't associate himself with being a Snake. Not any longer.

"Liquid." With voice and mind, Liquid could hear Miller note the fact it was the opposite state of matter from his brother's code name, Solid Snake… and that he hadn't added the Snake part at the end. "Well then, Liquid. What is your choice?"

Instead of answering immediately, Liquid turned his head, looking out the window. The snow had fallen rather thick. "I'm not going anywhere for a few days," he said, looking back at Miller. "I suppose I have a few days to make a decision."

"Hm." A hint of a real smile crossed Miller's lips. "Well then. If you're staying, go take a shower, then help me feed the girls."

Liquid looked over at the dogs, watching Amanda's head perk up and her tail wag. "Putting me to work already?"

"You're going to pull your weight while you're here, Liquid, even if it's only for a few days. Now hit the showers, soldier."


	30. Chapter 30

Kazu didn't stand as quickly as Amanda and Cecile. Liquid could see the days her old bones were aching, in stark contrast to Amanda's youthful bounce. But she still came when Liquid poured out breakfast, and in many ways was his favorite as he dug his fingers into her fur, rubbing where her ear met her head.

Miller had attached a more advanced prosthetic to his leg after he woke that morning, far too early. It was one Liquid had expected him to always wear after seeing the one he used for his arm, allowing him to move freely, almost as if it was a flesh and blood limb. But when he hadn't worn it for the days Liquid had been there, and then entered the kitchen without the cane and that- well. He had to read Miller's mind before he could explain.

"I suppose the dogs do need more food," he said mildly in response to Miller's thoughts about driving to town and picking up supplies. "And having a prosthetic that would allow you to balance properly would help with that. I assume you will be back well into the twilight hours."

Miller's slight twitch still brought on satisfaction. "You're too casual about reading other people's minds."

"It's a useful tool."

"You're not wrong," Miller said, giving him that. "Give the girls some exercise while I'm gone. Cecile loves chasing snowballs."

"Why, Miller, are you only keeping me around to dog sit?"

There was a slight twitch to his lips. "Don't burn the house down."

Liquid snorted, putting the dog food away as Miller started to ready himself to leave. He was going to be left alone in the house for the entire day with three dogs… what would he do with himself? There were books… he supposed he could read. Of course, he could always train. Miller had not so subtly indicated he should play with the dogs… perhaps as an attempt for him to find some stability. "Is it at all possible you could bring back real tea?"

"You don't like Lipton?"

He could hear the disgust in Miller's mind at the thought of the tea in his cupboard as well, which was… interesting. Why would he get such inferior tea if he didn't like it? "It's an embarrassment to tea. Proper tea does not come in… bags."

"I completely agree with you, but in the middle of nowhere Alaska means you have to deal with what you get, soldier," Miller told him. "Keep yourself out of trouble while I'm gone." With those words, he left, a burst of arctic air entering briefly as he exited.

Liquid sighed, sitting down heavily on the couch. What would he do? He looked over at the dogs, then around the room. It was… surprisingly decorated. He didn't expect to see pictures dotting the walls. The one he had shattered the glass of had been taken down, but there were at least two others. Liquid's lips curled at the landscape paintings in each. Those felt like art to cover bare walls, not art someone like Miller truly enjoyed.

Well. He stood, starting to inspect the rest of the room. Miller did not have a television, which made sense. It would be very difficult to get a signal out here. He did seem to be a bit of a music fiend… records, tapes, even CDs. Idly, Liquid picked up one tape, a bit surprised. Miller spoke English with such a clean American accent that it didn't occur to him that perhaps Kazuhira Miller would perhaps also know Japanese. But that was indeed Japanese script scrawled over the cover.

He put the tape back down, bored. When he turned, Kazu was staring at him, her tail wagging while Amanda was dancing at the door, whining. "Of course," Liquid grumbled. He opened the door, letting the dogs out. For a moment, he watched them, his bare chest taking the full brunt of the Alaskan chill.

Then he closed the door, going to the spare room he was staying in and grabbing his FOXHOUND coat. Once it slid on, Liquid followed them out, his eyes taking in the world around him. The snow had stopped falling, and it was about time for him to make a decision. He could easily leave. Hunt down Ocelot.

Motion caught his attention, and he witness Cecile jumping into a pile of snow, nearly disappearing into it. The sight startled laughter out of him as she pulled herself out, shaking herself off as she did so. Absently, he reached down, picking up a handful of snow.

Cecile froze, then started a full body wag.

Liquid packed the snow into a ball and threw it in her general direction, laughing again as she attempted to catch it in her mouth. He did it again, watching her twist in the air trying to meet the snowball. Next to him, he could see Amanda dancing in place, almost as if… trying to entice him to play with her. Liquid tossed a snowball her way, but she ignored it, dashing towards him, then away.

Oh ho. She wanted to run. Well, he did need the exercise, and given Miller's reluctance to use a properly useful prosthetic, she must be starved for a good run. Liquid threw another snowball towards Cecile before starting to run, watching Amanda leap before following him.

The cold Alaskan air bit into his lungs as he ran, his blood pumping not due to him being in mortal danger in… far too long. Each rhythmic breath, beat of blood in his ears, movement of his limbs felt… good. Amanda dashed next to him, graceless in the snow but just as eager as him to run. Cecile had joined them, not wanting to be left out. Briefly, he wondered where Kazu was, easing his path back to the house.

Kazu was still sitting on the porch, resting. She perked up when she saw Liquid return, her tail wagging. He slowed and came to a stop in front of her, his breath coming a bit harsher than he wanted as he studied her. Amanda and Cecile wandered off, still full of youthful energy to take out on fresh fallen snow as Liquid bent down in front of Kazu.

And slowly, she got up, moving so she was flush up against his side before sitting back down with a huff, her gaze watching out over the landscape. Almost… as if she was guarding him.

Liquid pressed a hand to his chest, wondering if FOXDIE was making an appearance. If he was about to leave a body for Miller to find. The way his chest felt, the warmth, the heaviness… just at a simple _dog._

But nothing more happened, and Liquid stood slowly. "Amanda. Cecile." The dogs pulled themselves out from the snow, bounding back. He stared at them, wondering. They would soon become _wet_ happy dogs. How… did Miller work around that?

Did he have a place for them to stay while they dried?

"Well. Let us see what happens next," Liquid announced.

  


* * *

  


When Miller returned, Liquid had dozed off on the couch, his fingers lightly grazing over Kazu's fur. The return of Miller's mind slowly woke up, allowing him to be fully awake when the man finally arrived. Liquid pulled on his coat and went to see what Miller had gotten.

It was in several boxes. "Take those," Miller told him, pointing with his chin. Liquid easily picked them up, taking them inside. It took two trips, but all the boxes made it inside. Liquid absently opened one box as Miller closed the door, noticing the dog food. "That's not the box you should look at," Miller said as he started to pull his hat off and unwind his scarf. "Check the big one."

Curious, Liquid opened that one, seeing white snow gear, weapons… "What is this?"

"If you're going to leave, you're going to need proper equipment. That FOXHOUND coat is going to stand out, and I don't care if you're a super soldier. You _will_ freeze eventually. White snow gear will make it so you blend in. Bears are a problem around here, so if anything, having a gun to take down a wild bear will make your life easier. There's also basic rations and a map of the area." Miller's entire demeanor turned the most serious he had seen since arriving. "I'm giving you a second chance, Liquid. If I find out you're using it to get your hands on yet another Metal Gear and fuck this up I swear I will hunt you down myself and kill you."

"Then why give me a second chance?" Liquid asked, almost a dare behind the words.

"I don't know. But… I have a feeling some of it is because you willingly came to me for help after what I did to you… and if I had been a little better at my job, this wouldn't have happened."

"Thinking you can wipe away the sins of your past by helping me now?" Liquid only felt… tired at that thought. He felt Kazu sit by his leg, and he reached down, stroking her ears.

Miller tilted his head down, looking at Kazu. "… Did you know I named her after my mother?"

Liquid shook his head, wondering where this was going.

"I figured it was a good tribute to her. She's always been there for me, particularly when my mind went to a rather dark place."

Liquid's fingers slowed on Kazu's head.

"I'm going to switch out my prosthetics. Let me know what your answer is when I get back."

"Why do you wear the other one when you have this superior one?" Liquid asked, his eyes narrowing.

"There are personal reasons," Miller told him, voice warning him not to ask… or read his mind to see what they were. "But more practically, the nature of this prosthetic means it doesn't fit quite right over the sleeve. I can't quite wear the socks I normally do to make up the lost volume between the sleeve and the prosthetic due to the interface, so it doesn't quite… work right. The other one, at least, is a much simpler process."

"I see you have no problem with that for your arm."

"You remember Venom Snake's arm. They figured that one out, at least."

Kazu whined, and Liquid took a deep breath, running his fingers over her fur yet again. "I see."

He could tell Miller looked down at Kazu again before he left. Liquid looked down at her as well, his hand trembling on her head. She hadn't been the first to come to his side, but now she wouldn't leave. She wouldn't- let him be alone.

Slowly, he knelt, looking into Kazu's eyes.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder.

He didn't know when he started sobbing, holding her tightly. Something about that so- so _simple_ gesture, the fact she cared about him without knowing him despite being a _dog_ , just a dog but she wanted him to be happy, didn't want him to feel upset-

Kazu was just a dog! Why did this matter?!

Was he that torn apart over Tretij's death that a _dog_ shattered him?!

But the tears slowly stopped, his fingers running over Kazu's back. He sat back, seeing Miller standing in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. When Miller offered one, he took it, taking a sip and making a face at the tea he tasted. But it was warm, and even bad tea was familiar, comforting.

"Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes," Miller told him.

Liquid only nodded, taking another sip of tea as Kazu sat next to him.

Guarding him.


	31. Chapter 31

An unholy wail filled the air. Liquid paused in the middle of a pushup, watching Kazu lift her head at the sound. Irritated, he stood, exiting his room to make his way down the stairs, knowing what he would see: Cecile laying in front of the front door, thankfully with all the snow knocked off her fur, wailing up a storm as Miller casually took off his snow covered gear. "I take it she wishes to go back outside," Liquid said, his voice dry.

"She's just being a drama queen." Miller looked over at Liquid, an eyebrow lifting over his aviators. "Busy?"

"Only working out." Liquid leaned against the wall, smirking. "What, did you need me for something?"

"There's caribou outside that needs to be taken care of." Miller patted Liquid on the shoulder. "You're pretty good at that, so I'm going to take a shower and leave you to it."

Miller's words lit something inside his chest as Liquid nodded. After two months, it never stopped being addicting to hear Miller say something like that. He never entrusted hunting to Liquid - perhaps didn't trust that gun wouldn't turn back to Miller, or even Liquid himself - but what chores he did give to Liquid he was always very honest about how Liquid did. If Liquid did poorly, he did not mince words, but he also let Liquid know where and how to succeed next time. And if he did well… he never failed to let Liquid know he did his job well. It was more than what he had heard from others that had praised him- it was-

He wanted this more than before. Something about Miller finding no fault in what he did and telling him he did well hit him harder than any other praise he had gotten.

Once he finished up with the caribou and had washed his tools, Liquid stretched, moving to take another shower to clean himself. It was… very calming out here, he noticed. He had fallen into this easy daily push and pull with Miller, and it had felt… almost strange. Liquid didn't know what it was exactly, but it didn't feel like he was living with the Miller of the past. It felt… good.

When he was done, he was surprised to see Miller hanging a new photo on the wall in the living room. No, he realized. The photo wasn't new. He had caught a glimpse of it before he had destroyed its frame. He had just never paid it any attention. And now that he looked at it…

It was mildly ridiculous. A slightly younger Miller in his aviators, smiling wildly while holding a laughing toddler wearing bright red heart shaped sunglasses. The toddler's blonde hair was pulled up into adorable pigtails, and she wore an adorable pink sundress. From what Liquid could see, the little girl looked nothing like Miller, but he had a feeling, despite that, he was looking at this man and his daughter.

"She's adorable," Liquid commented.

Miller chuckled. "And a handful." He took a step back, eying it, making sure it was hung straight.

"Will we be babysitters at some point as well? Huskies are enough of a drama queen for me."

Miller looked at him, pointedly. "You have heard of the phrase 'the pot calling the kettle black'?"

Liquid waved a hand, dismissively.

After a moment, Miller took a breath. "I haven't seen Cathy since I moved out here. Her mother and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye before we decided it was best for me to leave."

Liquid reached his mind out. "Because you had to help my brother kill our father and you haven't quite laid that to rest yet, even now. And you miss your daughter dearly."

"I really wish you wouldn't just read my mind like that," Miller told him. "But yes."

Liquid snorted.

"I can't imagine what sort of girl she's grown into," Miller continued, and Liquid almost felt overwhelmed with Miller's longing to see his daughter again, yanking his mind back at that. "Maybe some day I'll look at the newspapers when I'm in town and see a headline that says something like 'Renown Scientist Catherine Miller Finds Cure to All Cancer' or something." The hint of pride in Miller's voice made Liquid look away, something brewing inside him at that, at how he would be talking about _Catherine_ like that, how-

He took a deep breath as Kazu butt her head against his leg. "She sounds like a wonderful girl," he said flatly.

Miller just shook his head. "I hope she still is," he said.

  


* * *

  


A very sweet scent filled the air. Surprised, Liquid sat up from the couch, putting down the book and heading towards the kitchen. Miller was standing over a pot with a candy thermometer in hand, stirring something that smelled sweet. "What are you making?" he asked, bemused.

"We've had a new snowfall, and I figured you've never had maple taffy."

"Maple… what." Liquid instantly reached his mind out.

"It's a recipe I picked up from my Canadian contacts." Miller checked his thermometer. "The maple syrup will be hot enough in a bit, and then we'll pour it out on the snow so it can harden into taffy."

"And you decided…" Liquid stopped, stunned.

"I don't have a lot of syrup so this is going to be the only batch," Miller continued, as if he hadn't been thinking of trying to give Liquid a little piece of some sort of childhood back with this.

Liquid only nodded, his hand dropping down, Kazu nudging her head under his hand soon after. He turned to sit at the table, his fingers still stroking Kazu's head. Still stunned that Miller… wanted to do that for him. "Why?" he finally asked.

Miller didn't answer at first, and Liquid felt him tease out which 'why' he was asking. "Because you deserved to have a childhood too," he finally said.

Liquid closed his eyes. The urge to rant, rave, tell him he didn't need his pity- and then he opened his eyes, still touching Miller's mind. Still seeing the lines between himself and Catherine being made, the sad thought that Miller would have lost Catherine's childhood, and the determination to give it to Liquid. To give it to at least one child in his household.

"How much longer?" he asked instead.

Kazu's fur was soft under his fingers.


	32. Chapter 32

Miller placed a bright pink mug in front of Liquid. "One more," he said.

Liquid cleared his throat, his mind already not enjoying the feeling of being stretched too far. But he wasn't about to stop now. He hadn't trained this long to stop now. With a deep breath, he focused on the mug, ignoring the bright colored dust around it. Just one more-

His hand came up slower that time to block Miller's punch, the blow clipping his temple. "Tch!"

"Focus," Miller warned him, his arm already pulled back for another blow.

Focus. He could do this. Focus on the mug-

"Tch!" He failed to block Miller's strike that time. He was reaching his limit. It was-

Liquid's nose hit the table, Miller's hand holding his hair tightly as he ground Liquid's face to the wood. "You didn't lose control that time," Miller told him, letting him go. "But your focus is completely gone." He looked at Liquid thoughtfully, Liquid bracing himself for whatever would come out of his mouth next for this training sessions. "… Tell me in detail how Mantis died."

Instantly, Liquid looked back at the hideously pink mug. "I had returned to the commander's room," he said, forcing his voice even. "I was to call Snake and continue my plan. While I was there, I spoke with Mantis, noting both worry for him being in such a cold location for so long and for FOXDIE's programming. While we were distracted, Ocelot shot Mantis." Here, Liquid's voice turned strained, and he could almost see the mug vibrating. "The both of us could not read Ocelot's mind, so we could not psychically hear him coming, and at least I wasn't paying attention, thinking only the Genome Soldiers would be nearby."

The mug shattered.

Liquid let out a long breath. "Damn."

"You've done better. But you're also _doing_ better." Miller nudged the box on the table with his elbow. "You only broke the one."

That made Liquid smile, the turn of lips tired.

"Go shower." Miller started to clean up the dust, not even looking up as Liquid almost fell off the chair as he got up. They knew how this went now. As long as Liquid could still function, it was business as normal.

Forcing Liquid to purposely break objects with his mind and still focus on fighting, then be able to report the death of the one person he had been close to without breaking another object… he was certainly doing much better than when they had started a year ago. Even just the request of asking how Tretij had died had caused the entire box to shatter then and for Liquid to become nigh unusable for two days. He supposed this was helping him stabilize… somewhat. He wasn't feeling as likely to shoot someone over it, after all.

The shower felt… good. But as soon as he turned the water off, he heard Amanda whining, joined by Cecile, and only by the fact he could feel the pressure of another mind outside the door told him that the girls weren't being their usual drama queens. It almost felt… dizzying, to feel another mind after two years with only Miller's mind to feel. Liquid absently started to dry off, touching first Miller's mind. He was surprised, wary, but not alarmed. Letting in the other person… interesting. So easily? He turned his touch to the other mind as he started to pull on his pants-

He didn't know how long he had been sitting on his bed, pants around his knees, when he came back to himself. His mind still spun slightly, seeing Metal Gears in his head, his past, his- Snarling, Liquid pulled his pants on completely and finished getting dressed, eschewing a shirt as usual, and pressed himself up against the wall as he started towards the stairs, listening.

"So that's where we're at." Liquid could hear the springs on the couch shift. "And that's why I'm here. We need help."

"Sounds like it," Miller said, not giving another inch.

"Well, I mean-! Snake said you'd be the only person he'd want to have in the foxhole with him."

"I'm also retired from FOXHOUND. This isn't my battle anymore."

"This isn't-" Liquid quickly glanced around the corner down the stairs, seeing Miller looking up at him, his visitor's back to Liquid. "We're not FOXHOUND. We're an anti-Metal Gear NGO."

Metal Gear.

Miller's warning roared in his head as Liquid took a deep breath. What was going on? Slowly, Liquid made his way down the stairs, telekinetically silencing his footsteps and knowing Miller was rolling his eyes behind his aviators at it, knowing it only made Liquid's head feel worse. "Why don't you explain what that is?" Miller asked, more for Liquid's benefit than his own.

As Liquid came closer, he saw the scientist that had worked on Rex, Hal Emmerich, push up his glasses. "Ocelot sold Rex's plans on the black market," he said. "Which meant anyone with any cash could buy the plans and create a new Metal Gear. Snake and I have been trying to eradicate all Metal Gears." Emmerich was unaware of Miller mentally warning Liquid to stand down, as the picture nearest Liquid was starting to shudder. "We were investigating a new type of Metal Gear being developed by the Marines, but-"

"Yes?"

"Well, it was stolen by Ocelot."

Liquid was proud of himself. He didn't break anything.

He only started laughing humorlessly.

Emmerich rocketed to his feet, scrambling away from Liquid, his face draining of color. "L-l-liquid!"

"So that old bastard is still alive," Liquid mused. "As is my brother, apparently, if the two of you are working together against what Ocelot has done."

"How are you- how are you still alive?"

The question threw Liquid for a loop. "Very easily. I never died. Snake refused to fight me, and Miller hasn't gotten tired of me yet." Why did he ask- His eyes grew wide as he read in Emmerich's mind the reason right before Emmerich said it himself.

"Ocelot has a new arm and he- he started acting like he was _you_."

Miller made a disgusted noise. "The man is a skilled hypnotist," he said. "He already hypnotized himself into thinking Venom Snake was Big Boss. He must have hypnotized himself into thinking he has Liquid's arm and is being possessed by it. Which is a good cover story." Miller looked at Liquid. "If you come out of hiding, you're a dead man. And he knows about FOXDIE."

Liquid just chuckled darkly. "That is true. He must be waiting for me to hear this and come at him at a rage."

Emmerich looked between them, partly in confusion, partly in slowly draining terror. "S-so, you-"

Miller jerked his head towards Emmerich. "Why don't you listen to Hal for a while, Liquid? I think it might be the first steps towards what you want."

Liquid paused, starting to feel dizzy again. He heard the implication. The idea to- work with them. To help them-

So he could get to Ocelot.

_And if you turn around and betray them right after I will blow your head off myself._

Liquid swallowed.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get sick it's not fun.

Papers littered the table as Kazu slept by Liquid's feet. "You know what my thoughts are about joining forces with Snake are," Miller said as he lounged on the couch, deceptively lazy. Liquid could tell he was keeping an eye on him the entire time.

"I would sooner shoot Snake than work with him," Liquid said, reaching for a new pile of papers. "And that wouldn't be quite conductive to finding and killing Ocelot, now would it?"

Miller made a noncommittal sound, and Liquid reached his mind out, idly wanting to see what he was thinking. _You're pretty predictable. Also, if anything, Emmerich does more research than any contact I have and also has a reason to want to find Ocelot._

"I am _not_ predictable." Liquid scowled at the report of the events of the USS _Discovery_. It was the official report, so it listed Solid Snake, an infamous terrorist, as the responsible party and dead (Liquid did consider at least asking how they faked Snake's death, at the very least). Deciding it useless, he put it aside and groaned.

"It doesn't change the fact Emmerich would be a good ally to have." Miller started to stand. "And you and Snake wouldn't have to be deployed on the same mission."

"I am _not_ working on the same team as my brother," Liquid told him shortly. "Though it may not have been by his design, I cannot yet forgive him for taking all I ever wanted. I will not work with him, not by choice."

Miller walked over to the kitchen, his cane hitting the floor rhythmically before he stopped to grab a mug and the kettle. Liquid watched out of the corner of his eye as Miller started heating water in the kettle and pulled out the blasted tea bags. At least he had managed to find bagged tea that was passible. Not good, not even close to good. But it was drinkable. Liquid went back to the papers on the table, the next batch showing what happened to the area next. An off-shore decontamination facility had been constructed to clean up the crude oil spilled by the USS _Discovery._ Liquid leaned forward a little at that, frowning.

If FOXHOUND had still been around, he would have set them on this. A single tanker wouldn't have required this, he didn't think. He wasn't quite sure, though. "Miller, what contacts do you have?"

He heard Miller come closer, and he tried not to twitch as the older man read over his shoulder. "… Depends on what you need."

"Would a facility such as the Big Shell be needed for such an event?"

"I'll look into it."

Liquid continued looking into the government's propaganda about the Big Shell, absently noting when the kettle whistled and when Miller placed a mug with a tea bag in it in front of him. He grumbled, but let it steep for a while before standing, yanking the bag out and throwing it away. With a careful sip, he sat back down at the table, going over the papers again, trying to see if there would be anything there that would let him know what Ocelot was up to, and where he was.

"I'm proud of you."

Liquid looked up, surprised. Where did that come from?

"I mean, you could have killed Emmerich when he showed up, and you didn't. You could have destroyed something, during or after, and you didn't. You didn't even really terrorize him. And from what I can tell, Emmerich helped Snake back at Shadow Moses."

"What is your point, Miller?"

"You showed restraint. Not only that, but you showed me how much you've grown and healed since you've arrived." Miller smiled a little at him, and Liquid felt something swell in his chest. "I'm proud of you. And I'm going to actively encourage you to find Ocelot now. It's time for you to get up and go do something."

Liquid nodded. "Perhaps the same could be said of you, old man. It's about time you stopped mourning and started moving on."

Miller chuckled. "We'll see. I'll start with my contacts and pass the information on to you, see where it takes us." He patted Liquid on the back, leaving him along with Kazu, the papers, and the barely passible tea.

An a very, very proud feeling in his chest.


	34. Chapter 34

Liquid hated using a codec. Plain and simple. They were inelegant, hackable. But he could only read minds, not send thoughts back, and Miller wasn't going to be on site. So a stolen batch of nanomachines ran through his blood for the codec to activate in his ear. Furtively, he pressed against his ear, trying to keep Seal Team 10, Bravo Team from seeing him activate the codec.

"Well, I can certainly tell you that your brother is not part of the Sons of Liberty." Miller's voice radiated sarcasm over the codec. "I'm still investigating who this 'Solid Snake' is. I'm pretty certain Ocelot's behind it, though. Keep an eye out for him."

 _Of course._ A pang filled him when another mind didn't fill his as he lowered his hand. But it wasn't time to dwell on that fact. Bravo Team's mission was to assist Peter Stillman with bomb disposal. It almost felt… too normal like this. Something wasn't quite right. Carefully, he reached out, brushing his mind over the rest of the team. They were all normal Seals. Alpha Team had landed elsewhere, on Strut B… his mind brushed out over the soldiers patrolling, taking note of them. He would have to break off from Bravo Team soon, it would do well to know where the enemy was. And Alpha Team-

He broke off his search as he saw his chance to leave the group. A way to veer off, and if he used his ability to make them see elsewhere when he did so, it would be easy. Liquid touched the minds of those around him, encouraging them to pay attention to anywhere else to him and where he was going as he broke from the group, his head starting to hurt as he strained his abilities by also telekinetically silencing his steps down the stairs. But once he was safely away, he sighed, rolling his neck. Time to begin the real mission.

Miller's research had brought back information that Liquid had found suspect. They both found themselves keeping a closer eye on it, Miller buying equipment so he could keep up to date in real time. When the 'Sons of Liberty' nonsense started and the stench of Ocelot wafted from it, somehow Miller had been able to get someone to smuggle Liquid onto Seal Team 10. It did help, Liquid mused, that he had psychic powers to aid that deception. Though, he did have to speak with Miller about the false name they chose for him…

Liquid tilted his head a little as he started getting a feel of who was where. Of course he needed to keep track of the Russian soldiers, but also of Seal Team 10. If they found him not with Bravo Team…

And then he blinked, taken by complete surprise as he felt another mind enter. Young. But there was something hidden, something darkening that youth that if he had been Tretij, he could have yanked it out and understood what it was about that mind that made him feel uncomfortable. Liquid continued to listen, frowning. Did… he heard this was… a FOXHOUND recruit?

FOXHOUND had been disbanded after his revolt. Who was this child?

He kept a mind on the FOXHOUND child, narrowing his eyes as his mind noted the appearance of an intruder. So there was another other than himself. Before he pulled his mind back, he noted the child's code name - Raiden - and brushed the minds around him again before-

This time, he could feel it start to suck him in.

Liquid snarled, yanking his mind back, his heart pounding.

Of course his _brother_ would be there. Why wouldn't he?

The codec beeped in his ear, and Liquid activated it, his heart still pounding. "You don't seem like you're in any danger, Liquid, and your vitals are going crazy. What's going on?"

"Only that I almost got sucked into the absolute psychic vortex that is my brother's mind," Liquid said flatly. "Oh, and did you know that my brother is here? Because he is."

"Play nice," Miller warned him. "You're only here to find Ocelot. If you play your cards right, you won't even have to see Snake."

Liquid rolled his eyes. "There is also another person. Code name Raiden. According to his thoughts, he is a FOXHOUND recruit."

"Now that's interesting. Didn't FOXHOUND disband?"

"I would most certainly say they did."

"Hm." Miller's voice vibrated over the codec. "I'll look into it. Right now, do some reconnaissance. See what other big players are currently on the field, and who can lead you to Ocelot."

"Naturally, Miller," Liquid said easily, and cut the call. It was time to see exactly who these 'Sons of Liberty' were. He had read a dossier on them, of course. Dead Cell. He found their members a little… fascinating. Fortune would have been quite the asset to FOXHOUND, and Vamp had him reading his section over and over to make sure he actually saw what he saw. Where they were… well, he would just have to find them and lure them out.

Something about the entire… event didn't seem right to Liquid, however. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was off.

He started to move, then grabbed a pipe suddenly, his eyes growing wide as lives, little fires in his head went out one by one. Alpha Team. Was it Snake? Liquid started moving towards the transformer room, his eyes narrowed. Snake hadn't tried to kill his men on Shadow Moses. He knocked them out as often as he could. What would have changed here? He carefully reached his mind out, aware Snake would be in that area, and ran into…

He couldn't describe the mind. Hate seethed, but it seemed controlled. Almost… sane. It felt almost insane how sane it felt. But he could feel the ruthless nature, the way it easily took down Alpha Team-

Liquid pulled his mind back. That had to be one of Dead Cell. He made his way towards the transformer room, his steps as quick and light as he could without using his abilities. If he could capture this member of Dead Cell, make him talk… or even follow him back to another location and watch more of this game unfold in front of him, learning more minds to listen in on…

But when he got there he could hear his precious _brother_ talking to… Raiden? The Dead Cell member must have escaped, or they must have entered the location after he left. He reached his mind out, intent on at least reading Raiden's mind, but having to pull back at Snake's proximity. _Play nice,_ Miller had said, but all he could think about was shooting his brother right then and there if only for the peace of mind that he could use his abilities without worry.

Instead, he used his physical senses.

And couldn't help help a quiet snort.

Well, at least now he didn't have the stupidest fake name.

Iroquois Pilskin. Christ.


	35. Chapter 35

The radio didn't have to start crying for help for Liquid to realize Bravo Team was in trouble. He could feel it, the fires going out in his head. He grit his teeth, knowing his cover was wearing thin. Being the only - well, one of the only - survivors of Seal Team 10 would seem too suspicious. He would need to be particularly careful now to not be caught. Absently, he filed his brother's frequency away in his mind as he and Raiden finished their conversation. If anything, he could slip the frequency to Miller.

As for Liquid himself, his mission hadn't changed. He was still hunting Ocelot. The one that had taken out Alpha Team had been Vamp… Perhaps he could find Vamp himself. Though, from what Snake had said, it sounded as if Dead Cell had lost sight of who they had been. It might be difficult for him to get the information he wanted from them. Still, he had to try. He slipped away, intent on finding something to hint at Ocelot's presence.

His footsteps slowed as his mind encountered a mess of minds… and one in the middle of them, too calm. Sorrowful. Suicidal. Liquid pressed up against the wall and peeked around the corner as he grew closer to the sound of gunfire, astonishment filling him as he watched a beautiful figure, daring Bravo Team to hit her, stand openly on the bridge as the bullets veered around her at impossible angles. He recognized her by sight alone: Fortune. And her ability had been documented in her dossier. But this was the first time he had seen it in action, and it was breathtaking. He watched her take out the remaining Bravo Team with her railgun, and her and a man (he assumed was Vamp. The mind certainly was the same) pick up what certainly appeared to be the current American president and walk away.

Liquid narrowed his eyes. He would need to find a way to follow them, then. But before he moved, he felt Raiden's mind, shocked at that display, and he sighed, looking around to find him. When he caught glimpse of the white hair, he drew back a little further into the hall, keeping his mind on him as well until Raiden was completely gone. Liquid sighed, closing his eyes.

Then opened them, looking down.

… why was that beeping?

He raised a hand to his ear, activating his codec. "Miller, where was our lovely bomb specialist supposed to be waiting again?"

"Strut C. Why?"

"I believe I might be looking at one such bomb."

"That's not good."

"Why, I think you might be understating things," Liquid drawled.

"Cut the sarcasm, soldier." Miller grew silent for a moment. "What do you want to do? If you let those stay there, they might detonate. But it'll also take time you could be using to find Ocelot."

Liquid looked at the bomb, and narrowed his eyes. "I might as well disarm the bloody thing. If they go off before I have a chance to find Ocelot, that ruins my chances to find him. And I have a feeling my brother and Raiden will be doing the same, so that will cut the time spent down."

"Do you plan on revealing yourself to Snake and Raiden already?"

"You mean Iroquois Pliskin and Raiden."

Miller didn't answer at first, then only chuckled. "I have to wonder if Snake chose that name, or if that was Emmerich. That sounds more like Snake, though."

"At least it wasn't stolen directly from rather well known literature," Liquid retorted.

"Now, now, _Moriarty_ , would you rather I use your real name?"

Liquid allowed himself to laugh at that. "I suppose not."

"But going back to the original question. Are you going to contact them and let them know you're there?"

That was the question. Liquid considered the words, leaning up against the wall. A loud part of him screamed not to let Snake even live. A part of him warned him Miller wouldn't like that, and it went against his plans. But the part of him that could think critically, could see how hard it would be to take out the bombs with Stillman's help and not be caught by Snake and Raiden, and the fact most likely he would end up working with them eventually…

"May I at least injure Snake a little? Break a bone?"

"Play nice."

"You ruin all my fun." With that, he disconnected, cycling through frequencies before he reached Snake's.

When it connected, Snake sounded groggy, as if he had just awoken from that anemia related nap, courtesy of Vamp. Though, Liquid thought uneasily, a little blood loss wouldn't have put either of them down like that. Was FOXDIE starting to hit Snake? "Who's there?"

"Well hello, Pliskin," Liquid drawled, letting his humor at Snake's name come through.

"Liquid!"

"On this mission, you will refer to me as Moriarty." Liquid allowed disgust to drip from his words. "I suppose you may have seen a few bombs on the Big Shell, hm?"

"I have." Liquid heard him shifting. "So. What about it?"

"I don't know about you, but I don't fancy having the structure I'm currently walking on explode under my feet. Bravo Team was assisting Peter Stillman, and from my last contact with them before they were taken out by Fortune said he was still in Strut C. The three of us can rendezvous with Stillman there."

"I don't know what you mean by 'the three of us.'"

" _Raiden_ , dear brother," Liquid said, impatience filling his voice. "Before you say anything, yes, I have overheard the two of you talking and no, I do not care about what your or Raiden's missions may be. Once we disarm the bombs, I do not care if I see you again during this entire mission. I am only here to find a single man."

Snake made a thoughtful sound. "I'll let Raiden know you'll be joining us."

"Good."

As soon as he disconnected, his codec beeped again, Miller's frequency. "What did Snake say?"

"The three of us are going to meet with Stillman to disarm these bombs then go about our merry ways."

"Good job. I wouldn't reveal your face to Raiden, though. You look too much like Snake."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Good." Miller disconnected, and Liquid started for Strut C, steeling himself. He hadn't met with his twin since Shadow Moses… and now under these conditions…

… maybe if he got _Snake_ to throw the first punch, he'd be justified in fighting him.


	36. Chapter 36

Raiden's curiosity and absolute bafflement at Liquid's arrival was almost _adorable_. What topped it off was he didn't even hide it on his face. He kept it open for all to see. He recognized Snake, but seeing a masked survivor of Seal Team 10 come in behind him just threw him right off. Liquid nodded at Raiden, amused at his reaction.

He didn't need to listen to Snake while they talked about Stillman. Miller had briefed him already, and anything that slipped through the cracks, well, Liquid was confident he could lift from Stillman's mind. People were distressingly free about thinking about sensitive information when they didn't think a telepath was around. Instead, he kept an eye on Raiden, wondering about this shiny rookie raised on virtual reality. When he had spoken about that, his thoughts had a dark edge, a fragment that Liquid felt he knew too well. Perhaps this rookie wasn't as new as they thought.

But when Stillman mentioned one of Dead Cell was his students… Liquid narrowed his eyes, turning his attention back to Stillman. That hadn't been in the briefing.

"There are at least three people here who can claim to be experts at bomb disposal."

Oh, Raiden's sudden mental alarm at Snake's words was absolutely _hilarious._

But he did understand. Liquid himself only knew the basics about explosives. He had left that to Raven. Something like this… if it went wrong, bits of him could be splattered against the wall very quickly. The fact he couldn't pass this on to Snake in some psychic fashion only made the aching absence more noticeable. Of course, he'd also would like to point out to Snake that Stillman was not stupid and did notice Snake did not fit. At all. His disguise fooled Raiden, but it was so slipshod that it instantly put Stillman on edge. Instead, Liquid only stood there, tense, praying Stillman would not probe too far into either of their disguises.

"And you." Stillman looked around Snake after he introduced himself, eyes straight at Liquid. "You were with Bravo Team, weren't you?"

Liquid took a breath. Time to see if Miller's vocal coaching worked. "I was," he said, smoothing his voice into neutrality, layering an American accent over the words. "I got separated." No need to introduce himself. If he played his cards right, he would never see Snake or Raiden again.

"Do either of you have experience with explosives disposal?"

"Don't worry about either of us. And he looks young, but he can do it. But we need more manpower." Oh, Raiden's thoughts were an absolute riot. It made up for the entire fact Liquid had to play nice with his brother.

"What's your name? And what's your name, now that I think of it?" Stillman's mind was full of suspicion, making Liquid curse mentally. He had hoped he could get around not introducing himself and the silly name Miller had come up with.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade James Moriarty." He didn't bring his voice out of its neutrality.

"Interesting name. Parents big Sherlock Holmes fans?"

"Something like that."

Miller was going to _pay_ when he got back.

"Any other survivors?" Bless Raiden, he didn't get the reference. He only focused on the mission. Either he wasn't particularly well read… or that strange fragmentation Liquid could feel hid it.

"There was also an engineer with me." Liquid turned his attention to Stillman, curious at those words… and wanted to _shake Snake._ He saw Emmerich's face clearly in Stillman's mind as he spoke. What was Emmerich doing on site? Certainly, Stillman didn't think Emmerich wasn't dead, but- Snake had been on these type of missions for years. He must have known to leave his support team off site. What was he doing?

And then came the worst news of it all.

The Big Shell had _security measures._ That Emmerich was to get them all through. And most likely he was going to disable them for Snake. Liquid forced himself to stay still, not to show any hint of the anger rolling through him. He might still be able to disable them telekinetically, but he hadn't tried before, and he had a feeling if he failed it would be catastrophic.

So instead he set his jaw as he watched Stillman freeze a C4 bomb with coolant. It made sense, watching the bomb freeze. And now he would actually have to start using the nodes (he groaned internally. His telepathy had gotten him so far). "I'll go with Pliskin to Shell 2," Liquid said smoothly as he took his own coolant. He didn't really _want_ to, but… he had a feeling until they found Emmerich, he wasn't going to be able to easily move around _anywhere_.

Snake eyed him uneasily, but didn't say anything as Stillman nodded, handing over two card keys. "Take this."

Card keys. Liquid just barely swallowed a groan. Yes, this would be a slog.

Liquid started to leave as Raiden and Snake argued with Stillman, stopping at something particularly stupid Snake said.

"'Who Dares, Wins.'"

_He is not that… he cannot be that stupid._

Stillman's mind exploded with suspicion, for good reason. How did Snake- "If anything comes up, let me know. My frequency is 140.25."

"Good luck, kid. I'll see you later." And then, when Liquid had thought the entire farce had ended- "'Semper fi.'"

Liquid waited until the two of them were well away from Stillman and Raiden, far enough away so they could not overhear them when he whirled on Snake, his voice filled with anger. "That was the most piss poor display at a disguise I had ever seen," he said, letting the American accent drop.

"It was better than that accent," Snake said, dismissively.

"Stillman was automatically wary of you from your appearance," Liquid told him, scornfully. "And then- 'Who Dares, Wins'? I was in the SAS, brother. I think I know that saying quite well, and it seems Stillman knows it as well."

"Look, _Moriarity_ , let's just focus on freezing these bombs." Even if Liquid couldn't read Snake's mind, he could see the caution and wariness on Snake's face quite clearly.

"Sadly, _Pliskin_ , this time I'm at your and Emmerich's mercy," he said bitterly.

"Otacon."

"Oh yes, how could I forget the engineer has a code name as well," Liquid said, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I am at your and _Otacon's_ mercy for this mission. I cannot move freely around the Big Shell. If I could, I would do so, find Ocelot, kill him, and leave this godforsaken structure. But I cannot, so I must stay in contact with you until either one of us finds Ocelot or I can move through Big Shell unimpeded."

"And how do I know you won't shoot me in the back as soon as you get full access to the Big Shell?"

"Because I've been cautioned to play nice with you." And he didn't want to disappoint Miller.

"Pretty weak reason."

"Please, keep disbelieving me. I've theorized if you throw the first punch, my mission control won't yell at me for it." The codec beeped in his ear, and he ignored it.

But Snake noticed the way his attention suddenly shifted to one side, as if hearing the codec. "I take it your CO heard that."

Liquid sighed heavily, and answered his codec, knowing what he would hear.

"Don't even try it, soldier."

"Just _one_ punch. For God's sake."

"Play nice. That's an order." The codec clicked off, and Liquid sighed again.

"Well. I suppose that's that. Not even one punch. Come on, smile, Pliskin! We're to work together, like proper brothers." He smiled, knowing Snake wouldn't see it, and spread his arms. "And then we can pretend it never happened and go about our ways."

Snake eyed him, then sighed, reaching into his pockets as if for a cigarette then grumbling when he didn't find any. "Fine."

They just had to play nice until Ocelot was dead. Liquid could do that.

Liquid could play nice until he ripped Ocelot apart, little by little.


	37. Chapter 37

"So did you choose Pliskin yourself, dear brother, or was it a joint effort?"

Snake's irritated growl came over the codec, the underlying hiss of coolant highlighting it. "Shouldn't you be busy freezing the bombs?"

Liquid chuckled, looking down at his own frozen bomb. "You think so lowly of me."

"The last time I saw you, you used me to activate Metal Gear and tried to kill me. I think I'm thinking too highly of you right now."

Tilting his head, Liquid considered his words. "… Fair."

That stunned Snake into silence for a moment. "You're not going to argue? Go into a whole speech about whatever you're hung up about?"

Liquid sighed, taking a moment to scout out the area both mentally and with his radar, both for guards and bombs. "Four years have passed, Pliskin. I spent those entire four years in unintended therapy, if you can believe it. While my desire to make Ocelot pay, both for his traitorous deeds and for killing Mantis, has not abated, my desire to make you pay for the love and acceptance I never got, for being the wanted child I perceived you to be while I thought I was the scraps of the project thrown into a human being… it can be put aside. I had no intention on revealing myself to anyone here, only to kill Ocelot and leave. Any conflict between you and me… would have come later."

Snake fell silent, digesting Liquid's words. "And killing Ocelot was your only reason coming here?"

"Yes. Do keep up."

Snake only grunted at that. "You said you were in therapy. Who was your therapist?"

For some reason, Liquid suddenly felt awkward. Emmerich had most likely told Snake he had been living with Miller. But letting Snake know that Miller's presence, his training, the way he forced him to work through Mantis's death through forcing him to take control of his telekinesis… it felt personal.

It seemed Liquid's silence was enough for Snake to start making guesses. "You were living in Alaska with Miller, right? Was it someone Miller knew?"

Liquid chuckled humorlessly. "Pliskin, perhaps you should pay attention to the mission now."

"Not going to tell me, huh?"

"No. Do keep up." With that, Liquid disconnected, hearing the mind of a guard come close. Carefully, he pushed the attention of the guard aside as he slipped past, intent on finding the next bomb.

He wasn't an expert on demolitions, but he had a feeling this wasn't quite right. If anything, his telekinesis told him where the weak links would be, where he could easy break and cause damage, and the bombs were in locations that… had no lines. Nothing. Someone like Fatman would know where to place the bombs. Unless there was something he wasn't seeing?

His codec beeped, and he answered. "Something about this whole thing ain't right," Stillman said, his voice vibrating with worry. "I just called Pliskin. Keep on the lookout. There might be more bombs than we think."

"Understood." He disconnected, frowning. More than they thought. That would be troublesome.

… would it be useful if he tried to think of it as trying to find a place to break open and see if he could find a bomb there? Use his telekinesis in that way? He had never tried something like that… but it would be worth a try. Liquid looked around, shifting his thoughts in a way to find a weapon. A place to break. To slam his thoughts down into a weak point and yank up with his arms- well, that didn't help. There were plenty of those around.

Again, his codec beeped, and Liquid answered, this time Snake filling his ears. "You need to hear this," he said shortly before patching him into the group codec call. "Moriarty's here too."

"Wait- what's this about?" Raiden's voice held confusion, but also a very strong undercurrent of suspicion. Hm. Perhaps the child wasn't as naive as Liquid thought."

"A hell of a lot of C4 is packed into the bottom of the strut. Pete called it right."

The _bottom-_ Liquid instantly looked down, tracing the lines of weakness there, mentally cursing to himself. Why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he considered that as well? And why- no, he knew why they hadn't shown up. Snake confirmed it as soon as he thought it, leaving Liquid to grind his teeth, wishing yet again for Tretij's presence. Sensor-proof bombs. Being able to send all this information psychically would have been so much easier. This may have even been taken care of already if they had a psychic that had focused purely on the metaphysical abilities.

But instead they had Liquid.

He had never felt so useless.

No. If he could see lines of weakness, he could bloody well teach himself right here and now which were more important lines to keep the Big Shell standing. He could find the bombs and spray-

"I can try the spray from the distance," Snake said, echoing his thoughts.

"Hold on," Stillman suddenly interjected. "Something's not right about this one, I can feel it."

"Should we return to get you?" Liquid asked, barely remembering to layer an American accent over his words.

"No. There's no need." Stillman's voice was almost resigned. "Raiden, you have one left to go, correct?"

"Right. Except for those scentless ones."

Raiden sounded as ready to be finished with freezing the bombs as Liquid was. At least he wasn't the only one. "I have one left as well," Liquid said, keeping his voice neutral.

"And I have one left too," Snake told them.

"Okay… it'll have to be me. I have the level 4 card that'll get me into Shell 2 in any case." Stillman's voice weighed heavy with resignation, and Liquid's eyes narrowed, stretching his mind as far as he could to meet Stillman's.

It took all of his willpower not to blurt out Stillman's ability to walk before Stillman spoke it for himself. Of all the-

He could feel Raiden's utter betrayal at Stillman's words as he spoke, and he wished he could feel Snake's mind, but he supposed it didn't matter at the moment. The Big Shell had to remain standing until Liquid killed Ocelot. It could explode right after for all he cared.

Liquid took a deep breath, and continued on to find his final bomb. Sadly, Raiden and Snake had his frequency and could dial him up at any moment after this, but he didn't need to work with them. This was just to keep the Big Shell standing. Not an offer to help them with their missions.

He would never help Snake with any of his missions. Ever.


	38. Chapter 38

"Moriarty, this is not the time," Snake said as he answered his codec, voice testy.

"I need you to let me into Shell 1." Liquid didn't bother with any teasing words. What Stillman had said bothered him, and being able to see the lines of weakness under his feet made him uneasy. He knew that Stillman could work on the bomb in Shell 2, but he needed back in Shell 1. He had a feeling Raiden wouldn't know what to look for, considering the real bombs were sensor-proof, and he would need Liquid's help. Doing so without tipping his hand about his abilities would be difficult, but it wasn't as if he hadn't spun lie after lie before.

Snake grumbled on the other side of the codec. "I don't think so. After what happened four years ago, I want to know exactly where you are at all times."

"And you do remember who I worked with four years ago, yes? I have perhaps a bit more knowledge about explosives than you do, Pliskin. I can assist Raiden-"

"You can stop trying to lie to me like you did four years ago, shut up, and go find your last bomb."

He should have seen this coming. After twisting Snake around so much to activate Rex, he should have known this would happen. But- "It's frozen. And there is no Metal Gear for me to steal this time," Liquid told him, voice sharp. "If I had been chasing Metal Gears, I would not be here. I am chasing Ocelot. Now let me into Shell 1."

Snake fell silent for a moment. "No," he finally said. "I don't trust you."

Liquid grit his teeth as he disconnected, resisting the urge to kick the nearest locker. He didn't want to alert the guards. Maybe he shouldn't even bother any longer. Put down the coolant and go find Ocelot. He didn't want to help his brother with his mission, after all. All he wanted to do was make sure the Big Shell still stood under his feet as he hunted Ocelot.

So instead of answering his codec the next time it beeped in his ear, he ignored it, slipping through Shell 2. He could manage without his brother. He could-

Run right into a door that required a card key. Liquid could hear metal near him rattling, and he took a deep breath, telling his mind to calm before he blew something up and rapidly became useless. Even on FOXHOUND missions that had gone extremely poorly, he had backup. He wasn't dealing with having to rely on a hated family member and a child convinced he belonged to a disbanded unit. But- Liquid glared at the door.

Then called Miller.

"You knew it was coming," Miller told him, his voice neutral.

"I am quite aware." Liquid felt a guard's mind coming, and he slipped aside, waiting for the guard to leave. "I need a way around this… little issue. I cannot rely on Pliskin and Otacon for this any longer."

"How would you get around security measures before?"

Liquid fell quiet. Tretij. But he wasn't trained like that. His telekinesis was meant to enhance his physical abilities, not replace them. "You know I can't do that," he finally said, his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

"Then you know what you need to do. Swallow your pride, soldier."

"You do realize who you are talking to, correct?" Liquid asked, chuckling.

Miller chuckled as well. "Just call Pliskin and say you're sorry."

Liquid rolled his eyes, disconnecting. He cycled through frequencies to Snake's, calling in. "Pliskin, I-"

"The big bombs in Shells 1 and 2 are active," Snake said shortly. "Which you would have known if you had answered your codec. Who were you talking to?"

"I was _ignoring_ you," Liquid said, his voice defensive. He didn't want Snake to know his mission control was Miller. He remembered what Emmerich had said what Snake had said about him and Miller. "Is Raiden taking control of the one in Shell 1?"

"Yes. He is."

"Good-"

"Raiden. Pliskin. Moriarty. Listen carefully."

Stillman's sudden voice made Liquid hesitate. "What is it?" Raiden asked, the call suddenly a group call.

"I fell for it."

Instantly, Liquid reached out to Stillman's mind.

He disconnected immediately, putting all of his attention into not being seen, into roughly pushing aside minds to not be seen. Strut H. He had to get as far away from Strut H as possible. There wasn't much time. He knew he was making noise, putting too much work into the telepathic part and not into physically being stealthy, not into telekinetically silencing his steps, but he had been too close, too-

Shell 2 shook under his feet.

The codec beeped in his ear as Liquid leaned up against the wall, his pulse beating in his ears as he felt a fire go out in his head. Stillman's fire.

Liquid closed his eyes as the codec continued to beep, unsure why his arms were trembling as they rested against the wall. He tilted his head up to the ceiling, opening his eyes, then pushed himself off the wall, answering the codec.

"You knew."

Snake's voice was poisonous.

"I knew as much as you did, brother." Liquid found himself growling slightly, pacing.

"Doesn't explain why you suddenly wanted on Shell 1, or why you disconnected like that when Pete said he fell for Fatman's tricks."

"And I don't have to explain myself to you," he snarled.

"I'd rather not be taken by surprise by you again. You already used me once four years ago. I'm not about to let that happen again."

Liquid grit his teeth. "Where is Ocelot?" he asked instead.

"If you think trying to make me think that's all you're after-"

A hollow laugh escaped Liquid's throat. "Brother. If it hadn't been me desiring revenge, I would have blown my own brains out when-" Snake couldn't know that man was a body double and he couldn't shatter the illusion, not if other people could listen in "-our father stopped me at age twelve. Revenge is a very strong drive for me. And that is what I am here for now."

The words hung in the air as Snake went silent. "Just answer one thing. Why did you disconnect when Pete said he fell for Fatman's tricks?"

Liquid closed his eyes.

Then opened them.

"140.38."

"140.38?"

Liquid disconnected.


	39. Chapter 39

Before Liquid could think about it, about how Miller was filling Snake's ear with whatever he felt he could trust Snake with at that very moment, he cycled through frequencies to one he didn't realize he was going to use, ever, in this area.

"Raiden here."

He sounded so… serious. But he had an entire mission resting entirely on his shoulders, didn't he? A solo mission, much like Snake's had been, perhaps at the same age Snake had been during his first infiltration mission. Now that was a thought. His brother, Solid Snake, a rookie much like this one, with the deadly seriousness that only came with inexperience and youth instead of the distrust and wariness that came of age.

"It's Moriarty," Liquid said, just barely remembering the American accent. "Pliskin and I were separated. I'm going to need help getting back into Shell 1."

"I can't really do much right now," Raiden told him. "I don't have a key card that would get me into Shell 2. Once I take care of Fatman, I'll see what I can do."

Fatman. Before Liquid could open his mouth to say anything more, he heard the distant chime of an elevator, a female voice, then the distinct sound of a rail gun. Raiden disconnected immediately after that, and Liquid couldn't help but to punch the wall that time. Fortune, then. What was going on here?

His codec beep again, and Liquid answered it. "You're still not getting into Shell 1," Snake told him, his voice far less combative than it had been. "Not without me. I'll meet you there."

"Do you believe me now that your beloved Master Miller has told you the truth?" Liquid asked, not even hiding the bitterness in his voice.

"He told me there's a lot left you still need to tell me. But if he says you won't betray us, I'll put some trust in that." Snake hesitated for a second, then said, "Liquid, if we're going to work together, if there's anything you know-"

Liquid started laughing, his voice low, without humor. "Dear brother-"

"I mean it. We need to know as much as possible here. This entire situation is too much like Shadow Moses for my liking."

"Except without a Metal Gear."

"You don't-" Snake's voice was stunned. "I thought you were acting like you had on Shadow Moses. That you were trying to make me think you didn't know so you could use me."

Liquid blinked. "What do you mean?"

"This entire thing is a Metal Gear. Or, it houses one. Otacon and I were-"

Snake's voice kept talking, making less and less sense. Metal Gear. He was standing on top- of something that had a Metal Gear. Revenge sang inside him, the twelve year old piloting Sahelanthropus, the leader of FOXHOUND piloting Rex- Without realizing it, he had disconnected, his mind floating over fragments, trying to hold- he wasn't Eli, he wasn't Liquid Snake, he wasn't-

His codec was beeping.

"Liquid."

Miller's voice echoed in his ear. When had he answered his codec?

" _Eli._ "

"Don't call me that," he spat, feeling his fingers shiver against his ear. But he could feel his fingers against his head now. He was starting to pull himself in.

"Talk to me."

Liquid swallowed. "This… entire thing is a Metal Gear."

Miller grew quiet for a moment. "And we never went over your lust for Metal Gears," he finally said, his own voice growing soldier cold. "What are you going to do? You have a history of stealing them and rampaging."

He had that history. He could continue it. Continue his revenge against the world.

Or… he could be free.

"… history does not guide me," he finally said.

"Do you need an extraction?"

" _No._ " Liquid's voice snapped out, passionate. "If there is a Metal Gear here, and the events have an unsettling feel of Shadow Moses, Ocelot will be here. I will not give up this chance. I must take it."

"You do remember if I hear you stole this Metal Gear, I will come shoot you myself."

"I thought you said you'd be disappointed in me," Liquid said, forcing a chuckle.

"Of course I'd be disappointed in you. That's why I'd be the one to put you down, personally."

Liquid pressed a hand to his chest. He was pretty certain that feeling wasn't FOXDIE… but he didn't like it. Not at all. "Once Ocelot is dead, I will leave. The Metal Gear will be Snake's problem at that point. I- will not be part of any plans for Metal Gear."

"Good. Now, back straight, soldier, and rendezvous with Pliskin."

Liquid disconnected, taking a deep breath and looking up. "Brother, please, if you wanted to listen in you could have just asked."

Snake grumbled. "I just arrived at your little speech about how Metal Gear will be my problem after you kill Ocelot. Didn't expect to hear that."

"I've changed, brother," Liquid said, his voice short. "Do you not understand it? I lost my childhood friend who ended up being the man I had just started to realize I loved to a man that had set me up to create the Shadow Moses incident and betrayed me and if not for luck-" Liquid grit his teeth. "If not for luck, I would have never known Ocelot had killed the DARPA chief on purpose to keep information from me. I would have been used by Ocelot and perhaps would truly be dead right now, truly be an arm at the end of Ocelot's stump instead of trying to kill him for what he's done."

"So what changed about the Metal Gears?"

"I spent four years in Miller's presence, learning to deal with my grief in non-destructive ways," Liquid told him. "And Miller was very clear if I fuck this up, he will shoot me himself."

"You sound like that actually means something to you other than you'll be dead."

Liquid was about to snap at him, to tell him to start moving towards Shell 1, that the conversation was over… then could only sigh. "It's addictive to have someone proud of you for once. Even more so when you have tools to be absolutely certain it is the truth."

"Master Miller wouldn't lie to you about that kind of thing."

"No, considering he knows lying would be impossible around me."

Snake raised an eyebrow. "Impossible?"

If his mouth had been uncovered, Liquid's smile would be showing too many teeth. "Miller didn't tell you?"

Snake grumbled. "I suppose it's one of those things Miller said you had to tell me yourself."

Liquid continued to smile, then stopped, tilting his head slightly. Then turned, his mind reaching out-

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He turned back to Snake. "Just something that's near impossible to happen. It's only happened once before."

"And that is?"

"Instead of running straight into a pure unreadable psychic wall that Mantis and I usually did, I thought I heard Ocelot's disgusting mind."


	40. Chapter 40

Liquid couldn't quite make out the look on Snake's face right away. It shifted from confusion to surprise to guarded too quickly for him to catch onto. "Very funny," Snake growled.

He shrugged. "I suppose that was one of the things Miller wished for me to tell you." Liquid took a breath, just… feeling very empty. He could be working towards another Metal Gear, towards revenge… but it wasn't his life, was it? It wasn't his life anymore. His revenge had shifted past using a weapon to watch the world burn, focusing on a man who twisted him around, used him, then stole what little possibility for happiness he could have from under him. "Well. Now you are aware. Father's rather latent abilities were given to me."

"I was never told Big Boss was psychic. Or that you could read minds." Snake's hand started to drift towards his gun, and Liquid sighed.

"I had thought it was an open secret, and everyone connected to FOXHOUND knew, but I suppose the knowledge was confined only to the six of us. And I suppose you can say Father was not psychic, as he could not actually use what he had." Liquid shook his head. "We should return to Shell 1 and not argue about this. Now that you are aware, it should be fairly easy as long as you are not too close to me."

"What do you mean about that? Are you reading my mind right now? Have you been messing with our minds this entire time?"

"Let me set a few facts straight," Liquid told him, coldly. "I am not Mantis. You overestimate my abilities. And think for a moment. If I was given Father's abilities… well, a gaping void is left behind, isn't it? In its own right, your mind is a psychic weapon, dear brother, as any telepath attempting to read it is sucked into a vortex and could potentially become a vegetable. If you keep your distance, I can keep track of the guards and ensure we can sneak past them without issue. But I can only do so as long as I am sure I will not be sucked into your mind."

"Why tell me this now?" Snake still sounded suspicious.

He didn't know. Maybe… because Miller would be disappointed if he didn't work with his brother, didn't at least _try_ to play nice. Didn't try to help while he hunted Ocelot. "I suppose because I can," he finally said. "And because I plan on never seeing you again. You knowing I happen to be a little telepathic and a little telekinetic means nothing. We will do what we came to do, and then-" Liquid paused. What would he do once he killed Ocelot? Live with Miller?

Would Miller even want him around after he killed Ocelot?

"Can you at least tell Raiden we're coming?"

"You have a codec, Pliskin," he said, forcing a chuckle.

"You know what I mean."

"… no. Mantis handled that when FOXHOUND was alive. I am trained for it to enhance my physical abilities, not to rely on them."

Snake grunted. "Would be useful."

"You are not the only one to think so."

"Hm." Snake shifted. "Well. Let's get going, then."

Liquid knew he didn't quite believe him. Perhaps, he even thought Liquid was using Miller, twisting him around to think he was trustworthy. The thought ached, almost making Liquid angry. Snake hadn't been there. He didn't know. But Liquid stilled his tongue, not wished to incur another codec call from Miller, telling him to play nice. He could play nice. He was playing nice.

"How did you get away from the bomb?" Liquid finally asked.

Snake went quiet for a moment, then- "You. When you disconnected, I wanted to find you and get answers. Figured you were up to something and you were about to get us all killed. I had Otacon screaming in my ear the entire time, though."

"Why is he on site?" Liquid asked, irritated. "The support is not supposed to be on site. Particularly not one skinny scientist."

"I need him on site. It's just the two of us, and he needs to be physically present sometimes to hack into things." Snake shrugged. "He's careful."

"Hm." Liquid suddenly jolted, feeling a fire go out in his head. "Well. I think Raiden just killed Fatman."

"And how would you know that?"

"Minds burn around me, until death snuffs one out. I felt one such go out. Either it was Fatman… or Raiden himself. If you wish, I can walk far enough away I can reach my mind out and confirm."

Snake glared at him, and reached up to engage his codec, calling Raiden. Liquid let his attention wander, bored. He knew it had been Fatman. The child may be a rookie, but he could sense something behind it all that told him Raiden was not new to fighting, to death.

Then he heard Snake making another call, and he groaned. "Can we just get to Shell 1?"

"In a moment. I need to get Otacon ready. We have hostages that need rescuing and he can fly them out."

"This is the stupidest idea you have had," Liquid said flatly. "You are needlessly putting your mission control into danger by having him pilot - he can pilot, yes? - hostages away from this situation. When it may be those responsible might decide that dead hostages are better than those alive and shoot him down."

"This is a dangerous business. Otacon knows this."

"This is your mission control! Your support!"

"I don't know why you care," Snake said, looking at him critically. "I would think you would want me without Otacon. Be easier to kill me that way."

"He is useful," Liquid said, gritting his teeth. "And to me as well. His computer skills could assist me in finding Ocelot so I can be out of your hair as fast as possible. I do not wish to see him dead."

Snake grunted, a curious noise. "Well, you're not in charge here. You haven't been in charge this entire time, Moriarty. So shut up and let us work."

Liquid shifted his weight, feeling the urge to punch him. Just once. Just one good one, to the jaw. Snake shifted his stance as well, echoing the building violence in Liquid's body.

Then-

Liquid closed his eyes.

"The guard that is coming is wishing for lunch," he said, his voice dispassionate. "There is a chance he may ignore his duties and come our way to see if he can find something to eat. We should move."

When he opened his eyes, Snake hadn't lose any tension. "Yeah. I guess we should. You first."


	41. Chapter 41

After hearing what seemed to be Ocelot's mind, Liquid tried to keep track of who was where. It wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. There were many more guards than he expected, and keeping track of all of them made his head hurt. Plenty of hostages as well, their minds a slow burn of panic. He felt a few non-military minds separate from the rest, but he didn't pay them any attention. As long as they didn't alert the guards, they didn't matter.

They were approaching Shell 1, though. Liquid reached out, interested to see what Raiden was thinking. Then, started cursing under his breath, surprise filling him at those thoughts. "What is a cyborg ninja doing here?" he said aloud. "It cannot be the same one- the minds here are nothing like his."

Snake jolted next to him. "Cyborg ninja?"

He never knew his brother repeated words in the form of a question so often. It quickly grew annoying. "Yes. Raiden apparently has been in touch with one." Liquid frowned. "This echoes Shadow Moses too much. It's not right."

"Complete with a British megalomaniac close to a Metal Gear."

"This grows old," Liquid said, his voice testy. "But- if there is a Metal Gear, and Ocelot nearby… this would also be the third time in my memory that Ocelot has been near a Metal Gear as well. And as Miller has often said, you can never be sure where Ocelot loyalties currently lay. If Ocelot's current master requests him to bring back the Metal Gear housed in this location…" Liquid made an annoyed noise. "Well, Miller would be more accurate with the math as he worked with Ocelot longer than I had, and had known him better, but I would say there would be a majority chance he would take the Metal Gear before I could even consider how to do so."

Snake grunted. "So you want me to believe Ocelot would take Metal Gear before you." He didn't… sound completely unbelieving.

"Yes."

Snake only grunted again. How Liquid wished he could read Snake's mind to see what he was thinking at the moment about that. But he only took a deep breath, reaching back out to Raiden. He was in an interesting position, after all. Far more interesting than he and his brother. It was-

He couldn't see through Raiden's eyes. He couldn't hear through Raiden's ears. That had been something Mantis had done for him, drawing him in, allowing him to see through another psychic's senses. It had worked to use another's eyes and ears, to be in one of his teammate's heads when he needed a visual of another location.

But he could certainly hear Raiden thinking.

A pipe started rattling, threatening to burst. Snake jumped away from it, then pointed his gun at Liquid as he only stood there, heedless of the possible danger. Perhaps even responding to the visible tension, the visible anger, the visible violence rising within him.

"Ocelot is here," he hissed. "In Shell 1. Near Raiden and the hostages."

"So you're going to blow us up instead of the bomb?"

Liquid laughed, the noise poisonous. "I am going to where Ocelot is and cut him into tiny pieces. Rip his head off and shake it in front of this 'Solid Snake.' I am going to make him regret everything he had done, every manipulation, for killing Mantis-"

"Good to know the therapy worked."

"He deserves it," Liquid growled. "If it had not been for him, I perhaps would have never even _been_ on Shadow Moses. Another unit would have been dispatched. Or if I had been, my dreams of Outer Heaven would not have been created. But Ocelot twisted me into considering Father's dream, betrayed me by keeping information from me and perhaps purposely allowing you to even live so he might have gotten what his masters wanted, murdered Mantis, and attempted to do the same to myself since FOXDIE was taking too long to take us both out. And because of him, you and I both are infected with a virus that seems to be taking its dear sweet time killing us."

"That one's Naomi's fault," Snake said, his voice almost dragged out of him. "She made it so FOXDIE could kill me at any time, and I guess we're close enough genetically that it's going to do the same for you."

"Oh lovely. So I could wake up one lovely, peaceful morning with Miller, go to feed the dogs, and keel over dead before I even touch their bag? Because Dr. Hunter… wanted to play God, apparently?"

"She had her reasons." Snake narrowed his eyes, almost daring him to take it out of his head. Knowing why he couldn't and daring him to try.

"Oh good. She had her reasons." Liquid turned away from Snake, his arms trembling with the urge to hit something. He needed to kill something. He needed-

God, he missed Tretij. The fact he could have dove into his mind, have another to anchor him, to wrap his mind around, to be _whole_ , _complete_ -

His codec beeped. Slowly, he reached up, answering.

"Eli."

He knew Miller knew what he would say. But not in front of Snake. He didn't want to show that weakness in front of his brother, his twin, his kin.

"Can you read the mind of the guy who calls himself 'Solid Snake'?"

Miller was focusing on the mission. Keeping Liquid grounded. He frowned, reaching out-

Then blinked.

"I- cannot. There is a psychic wall there as well."

"I thought so." He could see Snake blink, and answer his own codec. "Pliskin. Whoever this 'Solid Snake' is, he's psychic. I can't be sure who it is yet, but I have some ideas."

"And they are?" That was… disturbing how they both said that at the same time.

"One is another body double of Big Boss, only this time they actually found a psychic. It would explain why Ocelot's hypnotizing himself again."

"And another?" Liquid asked, his voice doubtful. Big Boss was supposed to be dead. Why have a body double of a man that is dead?

"… another clone."

"The Les Enfants Terribles project only had two living subjects," Liquid said flatly.

"It had three."

The words didn't make any sense. It had just been him and Snake, him and his twin… there hadn't been… there wasn't…

"Moriarty." Miller's sharp voice made Liquid's spine snap straight. "I'll look further into this. But be careful. If this is the third clone, the one that was made after you, I don't know much about him."

"We'll be careful," Snake assured him, and Liquid felt a pang as Snake lowered his hand. Miller and Snake had a history that hadn't started with hatred. And now they had been reconnected. They could speak, could-

"You be careful too, Eli," Miller said, making Liquid jolt. He didn't realize Miller hadn't disconnected. "I'll see you when you come home."

Liquid's hand shook slightly as he ended the call.


	42. Chapter 42

Feeling Emmerich's mind come closer only made Liquid more angry. He understood what his brother meant about having him on site now, as he could hear Emmerich think back on what he had done, the little computer related things he had to do that could have only been done on site. But that only meant that Snake's backup had been in danger, and that had put his brother in danger as well. Slowly, he turned, crossing his arms before Emmerich popped through the door.

To be fair to Emmerich, he only jumped once he deactivated his stealth camo and noticed Liquid standing there, unamused. "Man, you startled me," he said, rubbing his head. "Pliskin said there was a Seal Team 10 survivor. You're Moriarty?"

"Indeed. And you are Otacon, quite obviously."

Emmerich blanched. Liquid hadn't even bothered hiding his true accent, letting his lack of amusement filter through each word. "Liquid?! But- I thought you and Miller didn't care about this kind of thing."

"He's not here for Metal Gear," Snake said flatly. "He didn't even know about it."

Liquid grit his teeth at Emmerich's surprise. "Really? Oh wow, I thought that would have been the first thing you would know. Why are you here then?"

"Miller had gotten a tip that Ocelot would be here," Liquid told him. "I came to kill him. Once I do so, I will leave. Metal Gear is yours." His hands flexed on his arms. "My history does not guide me. Not any longer."

Something in Emmerich… made him smile. It didn't exactly soften, but it thrummed with sympathy. "Yeah. I get it. Well, I don't know what we can do to help you with Ocelot. I'm going to take the hostages to safety. I can try to help you once I'm done with that. Just let me know what you need."

"Otacon," Snake growled, his voice a warning.

"He could have hurt me when I visited Miller," Emmerich retorted. "He could have killed either of us when he found out about Metal Gear. And- well, I just trust him."

"You shouldn't." Liquid's voice came out softer than he meant it to. More bitter. "I am not your ally. My goals only align with yours for the time being."

Snake grunted, eying him. "That sounds honest."

Liquid only laughed, surprising himself at how tired it sounded. "I suppose it does." He looked over at Emmerich. "I hear you can fly." Then he slapped a hand over his face at Emmerich's guilty thoughts. "Am I surrounded by those who have only worked in VR?"

"Huh? How did you-"

"He's psychic," Snake said flatly. "It's how he managed to make Shadow Moses as much a clusterfuck as he did. And don't worry about it. Otacon can do it."

"Bloody mental idiots. Surrounded on all sides by mental-" Liquid muttered to himself, then lowered his hand from his face, taking a deep breath. "Fine. Then, I suppose, I will be given all the tools to hunt down Ocelot you will be able to afford me?"

Snake sighed. "Fine. If only because I know Master Miller will kill you if you try to steal Metal Gear."

"He would," Liquid said quietly.

Emmerich's mind was… an interesting place after those words. Liquid drew his mind back, not sure he wanted to hear those thoughts right now. "Let me get started, then," Emmerich said. "I'll disable the other Kasatka so they can't use it and get this one in the air."

Liquid watched as Snake contacted Raiden, waiting. Something… ached inside Liquid, watching the two of them work. It was almost _effortless._ Certainly, they had years together doing this, and it showed at how easily they fell together when working, but- the absence in his mind ached, a psychic emptiness that almost translated into physical pain.

But- Liquid tilted his head once Snake disconnected. "Raiden's almost convinced you are Solid Snake," he said, distracted. "The child isn't as daft as I thought."

Snake grunted. "That might not be good."

"We will see." Liquid climbed into the working Kasatka, Snake on his heels. And as the Kasatka lifted off… Liquid was fairly impressed. Emmerich instantly put all his attention into flying, and while it was nothing close to what Liquid himself could do, it wasn't bad at all.

As they flew by Raiden, Liquid watched the child, curious. Then, motion caught his attention… and his breath caught. "Father…?"

"What?" Snake looked at Liquid, confused.

"No, it's not." Liquid shook his head, taking a closer look. "It's-"

"I am the boss to surpass Big Boss." Liquid froze as he heard the newcomer's voice, the words hitting too hard. "Solid Snake."

He didn't need to read Snake's mind to know how outraged he was. "No! That is not Solid Snake," he snapped out, his voice carrying to Raiden.

A third clone. Liquid narrowed his eyes. "Well now!" he called out, not even bothering to layer an American accent over his voice. "Stealing Snake's name- aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"Well, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect to see both of my brothers," the third clone said, amused. "Considering one of you has been dead for years."

"Save it," Snake growled.

"Don't say you've forgotten me… Snake." Humor filled his voice as he moved. "And you… Liquid."

Raiden's mind exploded in confusion… and betrayal. He had guessed Pliskin's true identity. He hadn't even considered that Moriarty could have been the even more infamous terrorist, Liquid Snake. Liquid narrowed his eyes, taking aim as Snake snapped out a warning to Raiden. Both of them instantly started firing on the third Snake, their brother-

And Liquid growled, watching the bullets just barely miss. "He's deflecting our shots," he snapped at Snake.

"Then what do you recommend we do?" Snake growled back.

Liquid grit his teeth. Damn it. If he had been in a fist fight with this third clone, he knew what to do. Grab that bit of pipe that seemed a bit too heavy for him, use his telekinesis so he could wield it and bash his brother's head in with it. But from here…

With a deep breath, Liquid narrowed his eyes. Held up his gun.

And the third clone leapt, as if hearing Liquid's thoughts to try to guide the bullets himself into his brother's head. Liquid growled- then widened his eyes as the Harrier rose, Vamp at the helm. He hadn't even been listening for other minds. He had been so focused on this new Snake, this new clone…

Quickly, he turned, looking. His eyes caught on the Stinger, and he looked at Snake. The two of them nodded as Liquid grabbed it, tossing it to Raiden. "The Harrier cannot stand up to Stinger missiles," Liquid called down.

The Kasatka can't fight the Harrier head on," Snake added. "Shoot it down!"

To Raiden's credit, he didn't argue. He grabbed the Stinger and the missiles.

And Liquid only turned back to the Harrier. Waiting. Listening.

Wondering what he could do with his telekinesis to help Raiden along.


	43. Chapter 43

A breathless laugh escaped Liquid's throat as the Harrier went down. As young as Raiden was, he certainly could fight. He certainly could keep his wits about him, even in an event such as a _Harrier_ shooting at him. Snake shifted next to him, visibly uncomfortable at Liquid's glee, then blanched. "There's something coming up!"

"What?" Liquid shifted, tense as he saw it as well. Something rising from the depths. Something-

His breath caught as something beautiful broke the surface. It caught the Harrier easily, and Liquid felt himself lean forward, tugged by a need felt even as a child. He didn't need to hear Raiden declare it a Metal Gear. He knew. Oh, he knew.

And oh how he craved it. Even as it launched missiles into the air, he wanted it.

But… Liquid grit his teeth, shifting his weight to aim his gun, as if it would do anything against Metal Gear. This was a past that had killed Tretij. That would kill him, if he gave in. And he… what would he do? Once he took vengeance on a world that tried to tear him apart… he would have nothing left. He would have turned away the only person that still believed in him, given him a reason to kill him in return.

And that only made him feel so tired. So, so tired.

He felt Emmerich's mind roil in panic as the Kasatka flew away, needing to land. And he hated it, the fact they needed to land, to flee. Liquid almost looked away as both Emmerich and Snake cried out in surprise, Snake saying "It's running on water!" When he looked back…

"Of course the vampire is running on water," Liquid muttered. "Why wouldn't he be running on water? This entire idiotic situation wouldn't be complete without a bloody _fucking vampire_ running on water." He rubbed his forehead. "I hate everything about this whole situation. Metal Gear, Dead Cell, working with the both of you, and now a third clone I had never heard anything about… I just came to kill Ocelot. I did not wish to get involved in _any_ of this."

He could hear Snake answering a call from Raiden as he ranted, and he ignored it. He was quite aware Raiden could hear him as he started to pace, waving his hands to punctuate each annoyed word. When he looked over, he saw Emmerich watching him. Waiting for him to finish. "And what are you looking at?" he snarled. "I did not wish to even be seen by anyone here. The fact I have to even work with the child rankles, and now that I have to work with my dear brother as well as his _idiot_ backup who cannot stay out of danger-"

"Liquid, could you shut up for five seconds?" Snake asked, audibly losing all patience. "I'm trying to talk to Raiden."

"And the rookie!" Liquid spun to Snake. "This child, thinking he is part of _my_ unit, which I _know_ is disbanded-"

"Five seconds, Liquid. Before I shoot you."

Liquid took a deep breath, and crossed his arms. It wasn't for Snake's sake he fell silent. He could hear bits of the Kasatka rattling, his control starting to slip. He wrestled his emotions back into line, forcing himself not to destroy something in the Kasatka with his mind.

At least he could listen in. Liquid patched himself into the conversation just as Raiden asked about the body. "I am curious about this as well," Liquid asked, his voice forced into neutrality. Trying not to destroy anything.

Emmerich's mind fell into guilt. "We found a body double and I hacked the system to change the DNA results." Liquid looked over at him as Emmerich thought back to the adventure, and how the both of them almost died trying to retrieve a suitable body double and for Emmerich to be logged into a terminal on site long enough to fix the DNA results without it becoming suspicious.

"And… you're Liquid Snake." Raiden's mind and voice were wary and… a bit awed. "How? You're reported dead at Shadow Moses. And you were the leader of the terrorists. How are you working with Snake now? Didn't he try to kill you?"

"It's a much longer and stranger story than that," Liquid told him. "But Snake refused to kill me at Shadow Moses for a very noble reason - thank you, brother - and… I do not hold the name 'Snake' any longer."

Both Emmerich and Snake whipped their heads around to look at him, surprise visible. "What do you mean by that?" Snake asked, almost growling.

"I am merely 'Liquid' now."

"Oh." Raiden's voice turned quiet. Almost as if he understood what Liquid had said. As if he understood how he shed the history of attempting to take revenge on his father, and tried to surpass him, only to be manipulated into taking the name by the man that took all from him.

How much had Ocelot manipulated him over the years? Had Ocelot been the reason he had gotten files on FOXHOUND before he joined? The reason he received notices of Snake's successes? Had everything been put into place by Ocelot so Shadow Moses would be exactly how it was?

He should have killed Ocelot the moment he saw him when he joined FOXHOUND.

The Kasatka started rattling.

"Liquid, I swear to God, if you blow us up I will shoot you."

"Snake?" Raiden's voice was confused. "What do you mean?"

"He means I am allowing my emotions to run wild and the Kasatka may be a victim of an emotion-fueled telekinetic fit," Liquid said flatly. "And no worries, dear brother. You saw your precious Metal Gear. And I know Ocelot is on the Big Shell. We both have our goals in front of us. I will be leaving you now."

"Wait! Before you go… can I at least see your face? I mean, I can see Snake's. Just in case I see you again, so I don't shoot you on sight."

Raiden's words made Liquid pause. Then, he sighed, and revealed his face. He heard Emmerich suck in a breath, an odd thought running through his mind about how _old_ he looked. He didn't look old. No older than his twin.

And… it felt good to finally have his head uncovered. To have air moving freely around his face, his hair. "Is this what you wanted, Raiden?"

"Yeah. I guess I'll see you around."

"Hm." Liquid disconnected, starting to leave the Kasatka, letting Snake finish his conversation with Raiden. The last thing he heard as he left was how it turned to Emmerich's little group, and Metal Gears.

It didn't matter to him. Only killing Ocelot mattered.

His codec beeped.

"Miller," he started as he answered his codec, then stopped, not sure what else to say.

Miller was silent for a moment. Then- "Do you want me to keep in touch with Otacon so I can have a better picture of the place?"

Liquid took a deep breath.

"… I'm still proud of you, Eli."

"I've been used by Ocelot my entire life," he snapped at Miller. "How can you be proud of that?"

"Because I've seen who you've become now. You're not the same kid that terrorized the Diamond Dogs base, and you're not the same guy that took over Shadow Moses. There's so much you could have done while talking to Snake, Otacon, and Raiden, and you didn't do any of it. You kept your temper and you left to keep sight of the mission."

"Hm."

"Take down Ocelot. And come home. Kazu's waiting for you."

Liquid closed his eyes, not sure why a smile was coming to his lips. "And you?"

"Always."


	44. Chapter 44

Fairly quickly, Liquid regretted his little temper tantrum. He ran into a locked door, and proceeded to stare at it, annoyance rising just at the sight. But he wasn't about to call his brother or Emmerich, or even Raiden, declaring their help to get past a simple _door_. Instead, he considered the door, the electronics. He wasn't like Emmerich, knowledgable about these sort of things. But perhaps if he just pressed at a certain point and _broke_ something-

The electronics whirled in the door, and the light showing the door active went dead. Liquid swore under his breath, trying to jam his fingers between the door and the wall and pry it open, physically and psychically.

It didn't work.

Liquid slammed his head against the door, swearing under his breath. Well. He should have known better. And he should have been more diligent about logging in at the nodes instead of relying on the minds of the soldiers around him to get a better view of the area around him. He would have a better idea of a route he could take back to Shell 1, back to Ocelot.

Suddenly, he stopped. One hand went to his hair, gripping it. Ocelot must know he would be coming. He must know that Liquid wasn't dead, even if he was hypnotizing himself as Miller said he was. All of this- back on Shadow Moses, Ocelot had tried to kill both him and Tretij, tried to take them both out since FOXDIE was not killing them fast enough for his tastes. Liquid was not conductive to his plans. He would want Liquid dead as soon as possible-

A scream started to build in Liquid's throat.

Ocelot would know a Metal Gear would entice Liquid. That Liquid wanted to take revenge, to watch the world burn, and would want to rip apart a world that took the one he loved from him.

The door in front of him sparked, then fell, hanging drunkenly in its frame.

Liquid didn't notice.

He wanted Ocelot dead for what he did. For killing Tretij, for using him.

Not like this.

Not being lured out with the promise of revenge, both with Ocelot's death and a Metal Gear for himself.

His hand dropped from his hair to his ear, engaging his codec. "Miller," he choked out as soon as it connected. "He's luring me out. He knows I'm here."

On the other end, Miller swore, several languages filtering over the line. "I'll send an extraction," he said before Liquid shook his head.

"No. I never aborted a mission before. I am not about to start now." Liquid closed his eyes, trying to think. Trying to figure out how he was going to proceed. "My original plans are no longer useful. I cannot face Ocelot the way I wanted to now."

"How do you want to do this?"

Liquid opened his eyes. Then, started laughing, bitterly. "I suppose I should make nice with the others and apologize for my actions. Ocelot would be expecting me to come alone, and not to work with any others, particularly not with my brother. If I aligned myself with them… they could watch my back."

Miller fell quiet for a moment. "It's not a bad idea," he finally said. "I can let Otacon know you're going to call and why."

"It would be best if this entire mess was a group call," Liquid said, his voice bitter. "Place all our cards on the table, as it would be."

"Let me get it started." Liquid could hear the beeping of an outgoing call, then-

"Otacon here."

"Snake here too. What is it, Master?"

Liquid's teeth grit. How he hated Snake's easy familiarity with Miller.

"Where's Raiden?" Miller asked instead, keeping his voice all business.

"One moment."

Another brief beep, then Raiden's voice. "Raiden here."

"Hello, Raiden. My name is McDonell Miller…" Here, Miller chuckled. "No, I suppose it's time we all come clean. My name is Kazuhira Miller. I am Liquid's mission control. And we need to coordinate our movements if we're going to get anywhere."

"Master…" Snake's voice was stunned, almost disbelieving.

"Ocelot is manipulating this situation," Liquid said bluntly. "I do not know to what degree, but I am certain to at least draw out myself. He may be doing so to also draw out you, Snake. If we all work together, we may all watch each others' backs, and this time, Ocelot will not escape with his life."

"What about Metal Gear?" Raiden asked, his voice almost at a loss.

"It's still a priority," Miller said, his voice blunt. "I've seen a few Metal Gears in my life. They're nasty pieces of work. So you need to take it out."

"But that does mean I will need to work with you." The words dragged out of Liquid's mouth, reluctant. "I will assist in destroying Metal Gear, watching your back, with whatever you need, but I expect the same as I look for Ocelot."

"Why are you so intent on going after Ocelot?" Raiden's voice filled with confusion.

Miller didn't answer for him, and Liquid closed his eyes, trying to figure out the answer. Then, simply, "He betrayed me, used me, and killed my childhood friend. My first friend, and the one I had learned to love since we first met at age twelve."

"Liquid…" Emmerich sounded… almost sad. As if he didn't know the truth behind Liquid's behavior, what he had done.

It only made Liquid feel tired. He had lived for so long for revenge. For meeting Tretij again. And when he did, he had been Mantis. A new personality, overwritten. But through Shadow Moses, they had started to find that connection they had when they were twelve, so deep in each others' minds… and now he was gone.

And if he didn't kill Ocelot here… could he return to Miller's home? Could he face everything he had promised to Miller, to take down this monster as he promised?

"I am slightly psychic," he said instead. "Telepathic, telekinetic… I cannot transmit thoughts, but I can read them. If it is needed, I can relay the thoughts to the others via codec."

"Psychic…" There was awe in Raiden's voice.

"Now. What is our next move?"


	45. Chapter 45

"I think the kid might be a little overwhelmed by you," Miller chuckled as the lines of communication closed to the two of them.

"I'm not surprised. My deeds are well known, as well as my attempt at recreating Outer Heaven at Shadow Heaven." Liquid crossed his arms. "And I am supposed to be deceased at Shadow Moses. It's a bit much, and on top of that, to learn I can read his mind… it must be very overwhelming."

Miller chuckled again. "Well anyway. Raiden's going to be finding the President. You up for that?"

"You think so lowly of me." Liquid leaned up against the wall, making a mental scan of the area for guards before carefully reaching out. He frowned as he brushed by Raiden's mind, trying to get an idea where he was and what he was hearing. And- "Hm. This truly is too close to Shadow Moses for comfort. There's an electrified floor."

"That's not good. What's going on there?"

Liquid tapped a finger against his arm. "I don't know." He reached out again, making an annoyed noise when he realized what he felt. "The President of the United States seems to have protections against psychics. I'm running into a wall."

"I suppose we should have expected that." Miller's voice turned rueful at that. "I'll let Snake know what's going on. You keep in contact with Raiden. His thoughts should at least react to what the President's saying."

"Of course." Nothing interesting was going on at the moment. Raiden was retrieving a Nikita, echoing what Snake had done to deactivate the floor in front of Emmerich's room. He idly kept a lookout for guards, a bit surprised none were coming his way despite the temper tantrum he had thrown at the door. But… he sighed, knowing he had to move to a more secluded location eventually. Reluctantly, Liquid started walking, moving towards a side hall that no guards patrolled.

It was… strange. He was used to his abilities enhancing what he did. And now… it felt as if he took Mantis's spot. Not Tretij, Mantis. That was a distinction, an important one. And he felt he filled it now, the psychic relaying thoughts between his allies.

He couldn't exactly say he hated it. It just felt unnatural. Liquid was a man of action. Not one to stand about and wait, to be a conduit. This felt wrong.

But there wasn't much he could do other than wait, and listen to Raiden's mind. If he ran out as he wanted to, ready to kill Ocelot, he would be killed first for his recklessness. But he wasn't part of Snake and Emmerich's plans, and he wasn't in an area to help Raiden. So all he could do was use his psychic abilities in a way he never dreamed he would.

Slowly, he closed his eyes. Focusing his mind outward.

… what would Tretij say about this?

But he kept listening to Raiden's mind, keeping track of his reactions. Water was cold. Nikita missiles were annoying to guide. (Liquid agreed wholeheartedly with that one.) Hallway still smelled of ozone even after the electricity was turned off. President grabbed his-

Liquid couldn't help but laugh at that. Oh Raiden. He didn't realize how effeminate he looked until that moment, did he.

But he kept listening, kept-

"Liquid. Liquid! Eli!"

"The Patriots." Was he talking? "They're behind it."

"Your vitals are all over the place. Get out of Raiden's head, now!"

"The Patriots…"

_You're dissociating again. Honestly, did the SIS not know how to deal with the aftermath of psychic torture?_

Liquid gasped, his head snapping up. Those words, that thought almost felt like a memory but almost not. Had he imagined it? Wanted to hear it? Was Tretij-?

"Eli. Soldier."

"I'm here." Liquid took a deep breath, grounding himself. "I'm out of Raiden's head."

"I'll contact him later. Are you okay?"

"Keep talking." The words tumbled from Liquid's lips. "Kazuhira, please, allow me to hear something that is real, that is not my head swimming over fragments of myself that I could not piece together after that torturing _bastard_ ripped me apart in Iraq…"

"We had a new snowfall after you left. Amanda wants to go running, but I know you and her like to run in the path around the house together. Cecile's having fun jumping in the new snow. She's going to be a pain to clean up when I have to get her in. Kazu's sleeping at my feet, waiting for you to come home." Here, he hesitated. "And since there's a new snowfall, I found the maple syrup."

Liquid laughed a little. "More maple taffy?"

"You liked it last time."

"I did, didn't I." Liquid took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He felt… a bit more stable, reminded of what awaited him after this mission. "I'm going back to Raiden."

"Eli."

"We must know. I will be fine."

"Be careful."

With that, Miller disconnected. Liquid reached back out, listening. Allowing himself to swim in the truth, of who the third clone truly was. His hands flexed as he heard Raiden reacting to how his third brother (Solidus, he reminded himself. Solidus Snake, the balance between Solid and Liquid) manipulated Shadow Moses. Miller had been right about Ocelot. No one could truly tell whose side he was on. He had been working with Solidus for Shadow Moses… but Liquid had a feeling what he did ran deeper than that, manipulating even Solidus.

How he hated Ocelot even for that.

But his eyes snapped open when Raiden realized the Metal Gear they all saw was not the one the Big Shell housed. There was another.

… the one Snake was after.

History did not guide him. He would assist Snake in destroying Metal Gear.

… history did not guide him.

Liquid listened until he heard about Emma Emmerich (the sister of Hal Emmerich?), then stopped listening, instead calling Snake and Emmerich. "Raiden is aware of Metal Gear, how to stop it, and who can do so," he said shortly. "You would need to speak to him for the details, as I could only hear his reactions to what the President was saying."

"I'll get right on it," Emmerich said.

Snake only grunted.

And Liquid disconnected, feeling strange again. His role had shifted, and he had… played it well. Other than the brief dissociation, he had taken information from one person's head and relayed it to another person, opening new venues of communication between him and his allies.

He had done something he had never trained for.

A smile crossed his lips.

If Tretij could see him now.


	46. Chapter 46

Even if he hadn't patched into the call, Liquid still kept his mind on Raiden, and heard him react to Snake and Emmerich's words. And he felt a bit of the same surprise he did, anger rising in him at the mention of Ocelot and the Patriots. He couldn't quite make out what Emmerich had said about Emma to create such confusion inside Raiden, but he could always call and clear that up.

The fact he could just simply call one of the people that actively worked against him at Shadow Moses, and he would be cordial, helpful… it was mind boggling. He was working together with Snake and Emmerich, against Metal Gears. Against Ocelot. He had hated his brother for so long, for having what he never had. And now…

Raiden's mind shifted gears, indicating he had ended the call, and before Liquid could move to call Snake, his own codec beeped. He answered, tilting his head. "Yes?"

"It's me." Emmerich sounded… like a professional. Liquid half expected to hear him apologize each time he spoke. But it had been four years, hadn't it? Enough time for him to grow. Enough time for Snake's presence to teach him how to become more, to teach him how to stand up and walk forward. "Raiden's probably going to need backup getting E. E."

"E… E?"

"Emma. It's my nickname for her. She's afraid of water, and he might need someone to watch his back while he makes sure she's okay."

Oh, that was _guilt_ in Emmerich's mind. Quite a bit. "What role did you play in her becoming hydrophobic?"

"How did you-" Emmerich broke off. "You just don't think twice about reading someone's mind, do you?"

"Miller complains about it as well."

Emmerich coughed. "Well. When we were kids, E. E. almost drowned. I should have been there. I could see the pool from my room- I should have heard her calling for help-"

"Then-" Liquid fell silent as soon as Emmerich thought about why he should have heard Emma calling. "… I am speechless."

"Liquid, please, stop reading my mind. It's bad enough it actually happened. I don't want someone to actually be able to get inside my head and hear me thinking about it."

"… you were a minor, were you not? I am aware lust can make men do stupid things, as I've seen it happen all my life around me, but… I am wondering where I should aim my disgust."

"Liquid." Emmerich didn't sharpen his voice, per se, but Liquid had a feeling that was the tone a father would take with an unruly child. A proper father, not Big Boss, not the phantom that had taken Liquid back to the Diamond Dogs base. "Raiden's heading towards the flooded levels of Shell 2. I'll let him know you're coming."

"Of course." Liquid disconnected. Emmerich wasn't exactly wrong about having someone watch Raiden's back as he coaxed Emma into being a bit calmer. And simply having someone watching Raiden's back would be useful. So he reached out, using Raiden's mind to orient himself to where the child was, coming to a stop when he reached water. He could hear Emmerich contacting Raiden, and he groaned, knowing he would have to follow soon. Cold water. This would not be fun.

It wasn't as cold as he expected, but it wasn't pleasant.

But he started swimming, mindful of what was around him. He remembered Raiden's shock at the mines. Like Raiden, he had to stop for a lungful of air, diving back under and following him until they were both out. When Liquid emerged from the water, Raiden had turned to him, smirking. "You look like a drowned rat."

"I wouldn't throw stones," Liquid shot back, smirking as well as Raiden rolled his eyes. Liquid patted down his pockets, frowning. He had to have an elastic band or something to hold his hair back… aha. Quickly, he tied his wet hair back from his face, pausing at the strange look on Raiden's face. "Is there a problem?"

"You just… look really different from the Liquid Snake from the Shadow Moses VR."

Liquid hummed a little under his breath, acknowledging the words. "We should continue on."

"Yeah." Raiden looked… distracted. As if he had heard something before Liquid had arrived. Liquid almost reached his mind out, then turned to the door, tense. "Liquid? What is it?"

That mind. Hateful. Sadistic. But too calm. Liquid pulled out his gun, his finger reaching for the trigger. "Be on your guard. There is someone behind that door."

"Someone?"

Oh, did his brother infect Raiden with repeating words in the form of a question? "Vamp."

Raiden tensed, his own gun coming out. "He's here?"

"Come along." With that, Liquid entered, his gun coming up to train on the deceptively calm Vamp resting on the water, strangely floating. But of course he would be. Of course the damnable vampire would be floating on water. Why wouldn't he?

"Still ticking', huh?" It was adorable how Raiden tried to sound tough.

Vamp lifted his head, looking at the two of them. Too calm. "Unfortunately, Hell had no vacancies." Smoothly, he stood, his feet resting easily on the water. Liquid started to squeeze his trigger when Raiden fired off a few shots, Vamp easily dodging the shots.

… how? Liquid couldn't sense a single lick of psychic ability in Vamp's head. How was Vamp doing that?

But Vamp suddenly chuckled, a dark rolling noise, and Liquid noticed a line of blood across his cheek. The child had grazed him. "I thought so. Human muscles are quite eloquent. They speak-out clearly what the person's next movement will be. They even tell me which way a gun will be pointed before the trigger is pulled." Vamp's eyes roamed, clear over Raiden's body. "But your muscles…"

Liquid had enough. He wanted to read muscles? He could also read which way he was going to psychically bend his bullets. That had been his plan against Solidus, and now he had a chance to test it. Liquid fired off three shots, attempting to change the trajectory of each shot. The first he couldn't control, and Vamp dodged easily. The second, he wasn't sure, but he thought he changed it.

The third…

Vamp touched his arm, chuckling at the smear of blood. "That was not what your muscles said at all."

"Indeed," Liquid said, mockingly.

Vamp only looked back at him. "I was told you were special, Liquid Snake. I believe I see why, now." His face dropped the humor as he drew himself up. "But I will not lose to either of you. You will not interfere with Arsenal Gear."

Liquid reached his mind out, trying to get an idea of what would happen. Where Emma was. What- what was going on. This felt so much like Shadow Moses…

But he wasn't the one with the virus for Emma. All he could do would be keep Vamp busy if Raiden was to escape. Or… perhaps he could distract Vamp while they fought. It seemed he had a hard time reading Raiden, and with Liquid psychically bending the trajectory of his bullets…

With luck, they would send this vampire to Hell before Emma Emmerich drowned for good this time.


	47. Chapter 47

Liquid quickly found out that even if he could bend the trajectory of his bullets, A) he couldn't do it for long since his head started to hurt fairly quickly and B) he couldn't predict which way Vamp would move. There were more times than he wanted to count that Vamp dodged away from the direction he thought he was going to go. Reading Vamp's mind ending up being near useless in battle, as he didn't think about how he was going to fight. He just fought. And so Liquid felt frustration mounting as he kept Vamp on his toes the best he could, watching Raiden have a better time actually hitting the damned vampire.

The damned vampire that could walk on water, swim in water that no one should swim in and resurface.

Of all the times for Tretij not to be around. He would have liked to have someone in his head (he would have always liked to have someone in his head, his Tretij) telling him if this was truly happening.

No matter.

Vamp was slowing at it was. Hit more times than he had expected. And the next time he landed on the water, his body slipped, losing control, sinking under the surface as blood filled the water. Both Raiden and Liquid kept their guns on him, waiting. But Vamp didn't resurface, and Raiden holstered his gun, kneeling to call his mission control. For some reason… Liquid couldn't patch into the call. Interesting. But he wasn't like Emmerich. He was a soldier. Technology wasn't his forte. That had become apparent when he shorted out the door trying to open it. But he listened to Raiden's end of the conversation, trying to glean the other end from his reactions, both physically and mentally. It was a short call, however, only leaving Raiden filled with determination.

But when Raiden called Snake, oh, did he patch into that one. He had to know what his brother was saying, after all. When Raiden asked if Emmerich could upload the virus instead of Emma… Liquid found himself wanting to growl. They had come all this way! And now he didn't want to go a little further to get Emma? They needed to get her out of this deathtrap. At least to safety, where she could do her job.

"I would if I could," Emmerich said, his voice rueful. "But the security for this system is no joke. I need more time…"

"And that is why you shouldn't whine," Liquid told Raiden, his words short. "We will retrieve Emma. And then we will rendezvous with you."

"Liquid, Raiden… With all the years that passed and-"

And with how his dear stepsister had nearly drowned because Emmerich had been engaged with coitus with her mother, he didn't wish to see her. Emmerich may have wanted him out of his mind, but it was quite difficult not to hear him think that when it echoed so loudly in his thoughts, almost screaming them to any telepath around. "You will need her help. We will bring her to you."

Emmerich's discomfort was both audible and screamed mentally. "I- guess."

"We can talk about this later." Oh, how he never thought he would be blessing the day Snake stopped an awkward conversation. "Raiden, Liquid, get moving. Emma's in the Locker Room to the north, right?"

"Yes. Indeed." Liquid disconnected. "Let's go."

And onward. Liquid didn't say a single word as the two of them sank back into the flooded parts of Shell 2, only sharing in Raiden's pain at being wet and cold. The mines were rather annoying too, as was not knowing where to go. Neither of them had logged into the node for the area, and they were swimming blind. Finally, they reached a staircase, and surfaced. "Aren't you psychic?" Raiden asked once his breathing evened back out. "Shouldn't you know where to go?"

"Not that type of psychic," Liquid told him. "We should find the node so we can have an actually bloody map of this area."

"Yeah, yeah," Raiden grumbled.

The node wasn't difficult to find. When they logged on, Liquid tilted his head. He reached out, holding Raiden back. Slowly, he started down the steps, silencing each one. He could almost physically hear Raiden rolling his eyes at the display, a small sliver of awe running through it. But, carefully, he followed Liquid, trying to silence his steps as well. He managed fairly well, for not having psychic powers. The two of them quietly made their way to a locker, Liquid's mind on the one hidden within.

He didn't draw his gun when Raiden did. He heard what was inside.

Young Emma Emmerich, cowering in fear, her emotion spiking as Raiden threw the door open and pointed the gun at her. When the unmistakable scent of urine filled the air, Liquid… pushed Raiden aside. "Imbecile," he muttered. "Are you always this trigger happy?"

"Who… who are you?" Emma looked up at them, panic running through her mind.

"This is Raiden." Liquid nodded to him. "And I am his backup. We're rescuing you."

_I noticed you didn't mention your name._

Well, it seemed Raiden learned Liquid could read his thoughts at any time and decided to aim this one directly at him. Sarcastic bint. It rankled enough to call himself Raiden's backup. He did not wish to alarm Emma further by using the name of an infamous terrorist.

"Rescuing me? You're lying!" Emma scrambled away, tucking herself further into the locker. "Where are you taking me this time?"

"What are you-" Liquid held his arm out as Raiden spoke, keeping him from moving forward.

"Emma." Liquid bent down, looking into the locker. "… Raiden. Patch into our call."

"Huh?" Both Raiden and Emma looked into him.

"You have nanomachines, do you not?" It would be a less personal way of explaining they were friendly. Liquid raised his hand, engaging his codec. Emma did the same, surprised.

"Nanocommunication… So you're not with them."

"No. We are not."

"That's what we've been trying to tell you."

"And you came to rescue me?" Emma felt so hopeful. So young. Was he ever this young before?

"Actually, we need your help to stop Arsenal…" And then there was Raiden. "I understand you're the only one who might be able to do it."

"And who told you that?"

"The President."

Liquid kept his eyes on Emma, his mind on hers. She was an open book, through and through, however. Scared witless, wary of everything. "We will need you to come to Shell 1," he told her, gauging her reactions. "Your brother is waiting for you."

"My brother?"

Oh, and how that was a cacophony of confusing emotions. But the sound of water broke through that, spiking her panic again. "We need to leave," Liquid said, his voice short. "Come along."

"I… I can't. I can't swim-"

"Oh for-!" Liquid reached in, hauling her out. She stumbled briefly, Raiden easily catching her. For a moment, her panic quieted, and Liquid felt like slamming his head against the nearest wall before the walls started to crack, water pouring in. "You bloody well can swim! Emmerich certainly was sure of it! Now let's go so you can see your precious brother again and we can stop Arsenal!"

"My brother really is here? No… I don't believe you!" A sudden nausea overcame Liquid at Emma's memory, water, a too familiar face drowning with her, that _scientist_ from the Diamond Dogs base, and her little voice calling for Hal, Hal, where was her brother…

He forced himself out of Emma's mind as she nearly yelled at Raiden. No, he couldn't deal with that. Not those thoughts.

"Raiden, Emma, we are leaving one way or another," he finally said, knowing his voice wasn't steady. "Even if Raiden must hold you the entire time, we are leaving."

"Um…" Emma blinked.

_Liquid, is everything okay?_

The twit forgot he couldn't send thoughts back. Or else he thought he would react to it in front of Emma. "Come along," he said, turning away.

He listened to Raiden explain the plan to her, trying to stay out of their minds. He didn't want to hear Emma almost drown again. It was- too close to his own fragments for his own liking. But once they were done, he sighed.

"Finally. Shall we go?"


	48. Chapter 48

Currently, Liquid was trying his damnedest to stay out of Emma's head. Her memories of drowning were only too real, spiked by her panic. And when she awkwardly tried to push aside why she wore glasses, despite her vision not requiring them… Liquid tried yet again not to hear her mind. The entire situation with the Emmerich family made his head hurt, and he didn't want to hear the confusing emotions roil through her mind about her step-brother.

When they started swimming, Liquid felt Emma's panic reach new heights, and Raiden's thoughts about how she suddenly held tighter and how it made it more difficult to swim. If Liquid could _speak_ to Emma, he would tell her everything would be fine. She wouldn't drown. But speech was impossible at this moment, and he wasn't that type of telepath.

Raiden didn't seem completely idiotic, though. At the first place they could take a breath, he surfaced, letting Emma breathe before gently telling her they were going back down. Hm. Liquid didn't expect that from the child. Perhaps seeing Emma afraid had knocked some sympathy loose.

Once they surfaced at the stairs, Raiden kept hold of Emma's slender hand. And Liquid rubbed his head as Emma certainly noticed that. He couldn't wait to kill Ocelot and return home. This mission…

_Everything okay, Liquid?_

Liquid's teeth grit as they entered the Filter Chamber 2. "Miss Emmerich, I will need to speak with Raiden," he managed to get out. "Please sit while I speak with him." He glared at Raiden, nodding to the other side of the room. Once they were away from Emma, Liquid leaned in close, his voice low so she couldn't hear. "You are aware I can only _hear_ your mind, correct?" he hissed. "I cannot send thoughts back to you, and so you thinking _at_ me questions you want me to respond to is ultimately useless."

"I know, I just… I know you don't want Emma to know your name." Miracles of miracles, Raiden had enough sense to lower his voice as well. "I mean… she probably would know who you are if you said it, so she wouldn't want to help us if she knew. I just want to know if you're okay."

With a sigh, Liquid rubbed his head. "Psychically, I am pushing myself to limits I didn't know I had. I am more used to having my abilities enhance what I do physically, not use them so much as a sole source. The battle against Vamp was a bit more than I expected, as I've never done anything like that before, and most definitely nothing that telekinetically intensive for that long."

"Anything else? Your temper's a little…"

"I am working with my brother," Liquid said flatly. "Who I swore to kill. And I just realized Ocelot has be using me for a lot longer than I realize and tried to manipulate me here as well. And this entire situation is too close to Shadow Moses for my liking. And there is a _vampire_ that may or may not be dead after all of that. Yes, I'm a little on edge right now."

"Geez…" Raiden looked over at Emma, her head resting against her raised knees. "Is she going to be okay?"

Liquid sighed. "She's terrified. And her mind is a place I do not wish to be at the moment. She… has a very vivid recollection of almost drowning."

"Poor girl…"

"Hm." Liquid watched Emma take several deep breaths, something not feeling right. Not good. Perhaps that slight precognition that the SIS insisted he must have? That was only a fever dream of theirs, though. He was only good at reading a situation, and being in the right place at the right time. Usually. Iraq didn't count.

Iraq was proof enough his abilities didn't include seeing the future. If he could, he would still be whole.

"Go speak with Emma," he finally said. "She will need a friendly voice."

Liquid didn't watch as Raiden went to comfort Emma. He didn't want to listen to them, hear Emma's words or her mind. Instead, he tried to focus on why something didn't feel right. Was it because he wasn't sure Vamp was dead? He hadn't felt the flame snuff out in his head. But he couldn't reach out and read Vamp's mind. Did that indicate he hadn't paid close enough attention and Vamp's life had been ended, or that Vamp now realized who he was and was now keeping him out of his head?

Or, perhaps, was it his other brother, the third clone, keeping him from verifying Vamp's death?

He disliked how none of these questions had answers.

When he looked over, he saw Raiden with his hand to his ear, codec engaged. And… Liquid couldn't patch in. This didn't feel right. Perhaps it was because it was to Raiden's mission control? They didn't allow for outside frequencies. But Liquid didn't like it. It didn't feel right. Thankfully, he could read Raiden's mind, and hear that he was instructed to head for Strut L.

After he was done with the call, Raiden looked up at Liquid. _Snake's calling. Patch in._

Liquid nodded slightly, lifting his hand to engage his own codec.

"Raiden, we've infiltrated the Computer Room. What's your situation?"

"We've retrieved Emma," Liquid said smoothly.

"She's safe," Raiden added hastily. "We're headed your way."

Snake only grunted at Liquid's voice. "Shell 1's deserted," he said instead of commenting on the fact Liquid was listening in. "Looks like everyone's aboard Arsenal."

"I had a look at the system, but there's nothing I can do." Emmerich sounded apologetic. "E.E.'s our only hope…"

"Right… I'll put her on then."

Liquid swallowed a groan. No, Raiden wouldn't know the conflicting emotions running through Emma's head regarding her step-brother. But Liquid did. And he didn't want to hear Emma take out her confused feelings of remaining more-than-familial love and betrayed hatred on Emmerich. But before he could stop Raiden, he patched her through, and Liquid sighed, trying not to watch the explosion.

When Snake broke up the argument, Liquid couldn't help but feel cheered. "I agree," he said smoothly. "That is enough."

Emmerich's surprise at Liquid agreeing with Snake was palpable even from here.

"We haven't got time for this sibling rivalry." Somehow, Liquid felt that was also pointed at him. "Just get Emma here."

"We shall," Liquid told him smoothly, his tone speaking for him that he heard that also directed at him and he wasn't amused.

"Most of the enemy's aboard Arsenal," Snake continued, ignoring Emma's stammering. "But I suggest you be careful. Make sure Emma gets here in one piece."

"Raiden… Liquid… take care of my sister."

Liquid looked over at Emma, watching her turn her glasses in her hands. And he felt her mind turn the last conversation over in her head, agonizing over what she should have said, why she shouldn't have said what she did, rationalizing to herself that she was in the right, remembering who Emmerich used to be, how they used to be…

"We'll get her there." Liquid said, his voice softer than he expected it to be.

Raiden looked up at him.

And nodded.


	49. Chapter 49

Computer speak was never Liquid's strong point. So when Emma started talking about the virus she had coded, Liquid found himself tuning out, looking away, unable to follow along. It simply made no sense to him. But quickly, he felt Raiden mentally poking at him, pulling his attention back to the conversation. Liquid found himself ready to pull Raiden aside again, reminding him of his psychic capabilities when he realized why the child brought his attention back to the conversation.

"How about the 'Patriots'? Ever heard of 'em?" _Emma created GW._

Liquid narrowed his eyes. Interesting.

"Yes." The word came out hesitant, wary. "But I've only known what I've been told."

"Can you tell us what you know?"

"Yes, please do, Miss Emmerich," Liquid said, keeping his voice smooth and free of any condemnation. First she was the mastermind behind this damned Metal Gear, and now behind GW? What was going on?

Emma's description of the Patriots was… Liquid felt a chill run down his spine with each word she spoke. He knew firsthand the horrors of being manipulated by the government, from a genetic scale onward. And now- hearing how far the Patriots wanted to go, how far they wanted to control everything- Liquid grit his teeth. A new Metal Gear still sounded so _tempting_ , but it was meant to house GW. Protect the new toy of the Patriots.

Patriots. Ha. Sounded like Cipher's work to him. Would he never be free of their influence?

Finally, Emma stopped her terrifying words. Raiden looked at her, his face honest as he said "Emma… it's not your fault. If it wasn't for the terrorists…"

Raiden hadn't had a single thought towards Shadow Moses, but Liquid still felt his words strike him hard. If it hadn't been for him, and how he wanted to use Emmerich's Metal Gear to take over the world… why was this situation so like Shadow Moses? Was Cipher manipulating this entire thing as well?

No. They wouldn't do that. There would be no reason.

"We should keep moving," Liquid told them. "We are expected in the Computer Room."

Emma gasped, her head coming up. "My bird in the Computer Room! Is he safe?"

She was worried about a bird? Hm, if it kept her calm and not speaking of things that turned Liquid's blood to ice, then having her worry over a stupid parrot would do. Raiden reassured her, and Liquid felt her calm a little.

"We've got a little longer to cover than last time," Raiden warned her.

"Right. I'll give it my best."

"Whatever you do, don't open your eyes."

"Why not?"

"There is a body," Liquid told her. "I assume seeing a body in the water would not be good for you."

"O-oh…"

Raiden looked over at Emma, and Liquid felt like hitting his head against the wall as he noticed her hair. "What are those sticks in your head?"

"These? They're lacquered chopsticks. They hold your hair in place. Did you know they're pretty popular in Europe and South America?"

"Can't say I do. You're not only cute, but smart too."

 _Please make it stop,_ Liquid pleaded silently.

"Oh- I'm much more than cute."

_I did not sign up for this._

"Okay, let's go!"

Liquid never thought he would be happy to be submerged in water. But it turned Raiden's thoughts back to the mission at hand, and turned Emma's to a low buzz of panic, which he could deal with. Each time Raiden surfaced to allow Emma to breathe, he could hear Raiden comforting her while mentally asking her to relax her grip. But at least it wasn't the light flirtations as before. Liquid could deal with Raiden trying to keep Emma calm while they swam.

Finally, they reached the end. Raiden gripped her slender hand gently and started to lead her to the elevator, Liquid following… only for Emma to turn back around, gripping Liquid's shirt. "Oh no, bugs. I hate bugs!"

Raiden must have a tranquilizer gun. Just one dart would put her out. Just one.

But instead, Raiden pulled out the damned coolant and shooed them away. Liquid watched, awkwardly touching Emma's arms, wondering what to do in this situation as Raiden finished, turning back to them. "There are no more bugs, Miss Emmerich," Liquid said, knowing he couldn't quite keep the irritation out of his voice. " _Now_ may we go?"

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice small as she let go.

Without realizing it, Liquid grasped her wrist. "We only need to get to the Computer Room as quickly as possible," he told her, his voice much more gentle than he wanted it to be. "You need to conquer your fears, Miss Emmerich."

"Yeah. I guess."

The elevator arrived, and Raiden took her hand again. Liquid supposed, at another time, he would find Emma's hyperawareness at how Raiden's hand felt adorable, or how Raiden noticed her looks interesting, but now… he only wanted to get this over with. And didn't Raiden have a girlfriend?

When the elevator reached its destination, Liquid held out a hand. While there weren't many minds, he could feel a few guards on this floor. And- he looked down, then over at Raiden, lifting an eyebrow.

Raiden sighed, pulling out the coolant again.

Emma only closed her eyes at the hiss of the coolant shooing the bugs away as Liquid stepped out of the elevator. His head was starting to hurt quite a bit, but he could still keep track of the minds around him. Slowly, he started to pull his gun.

_Let me do it, Liquid. My tranq gun is silenced._

An actual good use for the telepathy. He wasn't sure Raiden knew it. Liquid put his gun back, feeling Emma's confusion as he and Raiden switched places, Liquid taking Emma's rather slender and fragile feeling hand. Raiden looked back at Liquid, and he pointed in the direction they needed to go, holding up five fingers. With a nod, Raiden left.

"What's going on?" Emma whispered, coming in close to Liquid.

"Raiden is clearing a path for us."

"What-"

Liquid felt one mind after another drop into slumber until there were no minds awake other than theirs. "Come." He pulled her out of the elevator, feeling her thoughts explode in confusion. "Good job, Raiden."

Raiden only flashed him a bit of a cocky smile as he took Emma's hand from Liquid. Emma looked over at the sleeping guards the entire way to the connecting bridge, confused. Once they reached the bridge, Raiden looked over, then back at Liquid, giving Emma's hand back to him as Raiden pulled out a chaff grenade.

Ah. Those pesky buggers.

Emma's hand tightened on Liquid's as the grenade went off, then again at the two gunshots. Raiden didn't immediately come back, and Liquid blinked as he felt a mind fall into slumber nearby. Well then. Finally, Raiden returned, reaching out for Emma's hand.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. The child had even put out the fire, leaving only blackened metal behind. The three of them made their way to their destination-

Only for the door to buzz at them.

Liquid was going to shoot the person that came up with this security.

"This door is security level five. I don't have card five."

Liquid saw Emma look at her ID card, and he had to turn away before he throttled her as she remembered her ID was a security card.

Perhaps his temper was a little too short at the moment. He just… was tired of the entire situation. Working with Snake, the child that called himself a member of FOXHOUND, the situation being so close to Shadow Moses, the Patriots sounding so much like Cipher…

But the door opened.

The next room, Raiden took out the two guards without Liquid's help, giving Emma back to him. "Hey…" Emma asked, her hand tightening on Liquid's as Raiden left to handle the guards. "Who are you, anyway? That accent… you aren't really a Seal, are you?"

Liquid didn't look at her. "I am a person helping Raiden. That is all you need to know."

"Yeah, but… you also seem to know things Raiden doesn't know. Like… I don't know." Her hand tightened again. "And you're always really angry."

"I have had a very bad day, Miss Emmerich. I only wish for it to be over."

"Oh. I see."

Raiden came back, taking Emma's hand. Liquid sighed, rubbing his head. He hadn't had a headache like this since he was twelve. Even his SIS psychic training hadn't left him with these types of headaches.

But when Raiden opened the hatch and the three of them looked down at the ladder, Liquid felt the sudden urge to rip Emma away. To take her another way. But there was no other way. They had to follow this path. He took a deep breath, calming himself so he wouldn't lose psychic control, and started after them.

Once they reached the bottom, Emma's mind was filled with wonder for a moment. "The sunset. It's beautiful."

"If we don't hurry, it'll be the last one we see," Raiden reminded her, walking past her. Liquid and Raiden both scanned the area, Raiden physically and Liquid psychically.

Liquid didn't like what he felt. Something felt… off. Wrong. The urge to take Emma another way only intensified.

And when it became clear they would have to go one by one, Emma first, Raiden providing sniper cover…

Liquid flexed his hands.

When Emma left, he walked up next to Raiden. "I do not like this," he growled.

"Shh. I need to concentrate."

Liquid narrowed his eyes, but crossed his arms, watching Emma pick her way across. What was wrong? What was off? Liquid scanned the area, watching Raiden shoot out claymores as his mind swept over the guards' minds. No, nothing should have spiked his paranoia so hard. Then what was it? What was going on?

He did drop his head into his face when he heard Sasaki's mind again when Emma ran into him. How was he still a soldier?

But Emma was almost there. Almost. There.

Liquid had his gun in his hand and he was moving before he recognized what he was feeling. Before he realized the mind that was coming closer, and had just revealed himself, Vamp coming out of the water and grabbing Emma. He heard Raiden's gunshots, sniping Vamp as he ran for Emma.

Vamp's still not dead mind left as Liquid made it halfway, Emma now alone.

Liquid rushed for her at the same time as his brother, kneeling next to him as he reached into Emma's mind, feeling the shock and pain of what happened, of being stabbed as such. "We must get her to safety," he told Snake, looking up at her.

Snake only grunted, pulling Emma up as Liquid grit his teeth.

Damned _vampire._


	50. Chapter 50

Anatomy wasn't Liquid's strong point. To be honest, any type of biology really wasn't his strong point. He thought he had a basic grasp of genetics, but living with Miller and learning the truth behind his birth taught him he didn't know as much as he had hoped. But Liquid had been raised by a battlefield, and he could see lethal wounds when he saw them. The one Emma held her hand over as it was bandaged, as if it could keep the blood in her body, was one such wound.

By the look on Snake's face, he could tell he knew it as well. And from Emmerich's mind… how did one shut-in engineer, easily taken advantage of at Shadow Moses, learn to see the signs of a grave, possibly lethal wound? But when he looked over at his twin, it perhaps occurred to him that Emmerich had to learn before which wounds on Snake were the ones that he had to tend to first… and if they would be the ones to finally do the soldier in.

Emma collapsed in front of the computers, her breathing ragged. Then, carefully, she propped herself on one elbow, determination filling her mind. "Someone hold me up," she said, her voice breathy.

Liquid moved before anyone else could, helping her into a chair and holding her so she didn't fall out. The hand not holding her stomach reached out, shakily tapping the keys before the other joined it, blood smearing the keyboard as she worked. Her face quickly grew more and more pale, her arms shaking with the effort to keep her hands on the keyboard. Then, finally, she slumped against Liquid, nodding. "Okay."

Slowly, he pulled her out of the chair, trying to minimize the flair of pain in her mind as he laid her out on the floor. Emmerich knelt next to her, his hands hovering over her as if she was something precious, something more fragile than glass. Snake knelt as well, his fingers flying to her neck, checking her pulse and his eyes tightening at the results. Liquid looked at him, knowing what he did.

Anatomy may not have been Liquid's strong point, but he knew death. And he could feel Emma's flame slowly dwindling in his head.

Strange. He didn't think he would ever feel something like that. Death usually had been a sudden event for him. One moment the person was there, and the next, the bullet ripped through them and took their life. Or was it he hadn't been around someone slowly dying and paid attention to them to feel their flame gradually grow cold?

Liquid touched Emma's cheek, distantly noting how pale she seemed next to his hand. He should have listened to his instincts. What he must have been feeling was Vamp's mind, not dead and ready to take out the threat to GW. To Arsenal Gear.

Raiden's mind grew closer and closer, and he looked up as Raiden entered, standing to meet him. Emmerich still knelt by Emma's side, hoping he could find a way to stop the bleeding… and an analytical part of his mind, a strangely cold part that Liquid figured was the engineer side, that saw science and creation out of rubbish, looked at Emma and realized that they would need better medical support than what they had there, and faster than he could get it. Emmerich hoped, wished, _prayed_ they would save Emma, almost deluded himself they would… but for that engineer side that realized she needed more help than any of them could give, and no time to take her to one that could help her.

If only he had studied anatomy more, he would offer his telekinesis! Certainly, he could feel his mind protesting at the amount of use his psychic powers had gotten, but he- he wanted to keep Emma alive. Emma Emmerich needed to stay alive.

Emma rolled slightly to meet Emmerich, her bloodied hand flailing to find him. "H-hal?"

Emmerich took her slender hand, and Liquid swallowed as he felt something squeeze his heart. But it wasn't his heart. It was Emmerich's. He needed to get out of there. The sheer intensity of all the emotions in the room… he couldn't tell if what he felt was him or someone else. He needed-

"Got the disc?" Liquid blinked at Snake's voice, trying to anchor himself to someone focused on the mission. At least, someone sounding like he was focused on the mission. He couldn't read Snake's mind, and that helped. That helped a lot. He just needed to stay away from Raiden's mind as well. "Emma set everything up. Apparently all you have to do is pop in the disc." Snake turned to do just that, and Liquid followed him, taking measured breaths.

As Snake started the process, slipping the disk into the computer, he looked over at Liquid, raising an eyebrow. "Emmerich is quite emotional," Liquid told him, trying to move in as close as he could to take advantage of the psychic vortex but not to be sucked in. "And Emma is…" He closed his eyes, lowering his voice so it wouldn't carry past the two of them. "I can feel Emma's life ending in my head. It's… upsetting."

"I didn't think something like that would upset you."

"I wouldn't have thought that either." He opened his eyes, looking down at his clenched fists. "But instead, here I am, angry at myself for not taking Emma another way and foiling Vamp's plans. Here I am, watching a civilian's life slowly slip from her fingers and know I cannot stop it." Liquid grit his teeth. "I wish to stop it, brother. If I had a better knowledge of anatomy, a medic's knowledge, I would be attempting to hold her together with it until we could get her out of here. But I do not. I know how to kill, and that is it. That is all I know."

Snake looked over at Emma, his eyes narrowing. "… Yeah. I get you. I don't know how to save her either. I just know how to kill too."

"Heh." The noise came out humorless. "Dogs of war, we are."

Snake grunted out his own humorless noise.

"Is it working?" Raiden came over to them, worried.

"Just leave it to Emma." He turned back to the computer, jolting at what he saw on the screen. "What the-!" Snake leaned over the computer, a snarl on his face.

"An antibody agent?" Emmerich looked up at the computer as well, his hand tightening on Emma's.

"Damn! The connection's been cut!"

Liquid grit his teeth. He had a feeling it didn't work. Just… at this point, he couldn't explain why he felt that. Just that he knew it didn't. That it didn't work.

"Hal…" Emma's weak voice broke through his thoughts, making Liquid turn back to her. "Is… is everything alright?"

God. Even through Snake's natural vortex he could feel Emma. Liquid didn't want to feel it. But he was rooted there, watching Emmerich move to hold her. He didn't want to watch this…

"Uh… it's alright. Everything's alright."

"Good… At least I… I won't be adding another page to… our family's dark… history…" Liquid could feel her try to find some good in that, some happiness.

Something dripped from his nose onto his shirt.

Emma's confusing emotions about Emmerich, about Hal, wanting him to look at her and see her as more than a sister- Emmerich's guilt, sorrow, pain-

Liquid felt his knees buckle as Emmerich's glasses hit the floor, her flame extinguishing in his head. He reached behind him, using the computer to keep him upright as Emmerich's mind battered at him, sorrow filling him until he didn't know if he felt torn apart by the death of such an innocent civilian, unknowing of what she did, or if it was another's grief ripping him into pieces-

Hands guided him to a chair. "Your nose is bleeding," Snake told him, his voice rumbling.

Liquid huffed out a breath, touching the fluid under his nose, seeing the red smeared on his fingertips. "It'll stop," he said shortly. "It's only- we need to focus on the mission again."

"Yeah." Snake nodded. "Otacon will take care of the hostages. Raiden and I will take care of Arsenal Gear. You go after Ocelot."

"Why, brother, do you believe me now that I am only after Ocelot's death?" Liquid asked, chuckling weakly.

Snake chuckled as well. "Well, it'd also make our lives easier too." He patted Liquid's shoulder. "Good luck, Liquid."

Liquid only nodded at him as Snake turned back to Raiden and Otacon. The grief was fading from Otacon's mind, still strong but not as sharp. He could deal with that. It didn't overwhelm him that way. And now… Now…

It was time to hunt Ocelot.


	51. Chapter 51

No. This was far too much like Shadow Moses. Even if Liquid's head felt like it was about to explode from the amount of psychic use it had gotten, he could recognize how it felt to sneak along, each movement in an area enclosed around a Metal Gear. But now he was on the other end, wishing to take it all down, and it felt… unnatural.

Liquid reached his mind out, gritting his teeth against the pain, searching for the slightest hint of Ocelot. He didn't need to hear Ocelot's mind, only someone thinking where he would be. That was all he needed. Just a hint to where Ocelot would be so he could put a bullet through his brain.

He crept his way around a corner and up a flight of stairs, then…

Tilted his head.

That was a box, upside down.

But that wasn't Snake under it. He could actually feel the mind.

Liquid was about to slip past Raiden, ignoring him, but- he frowned, bending down. Those weren't usual mission thoughts. Confusion, self-loathing, embarrassment… "Do you require assistance?"

"No," came the muffled voice.

Liquid sighed, starting to stand-

And stopped, feeling Raiden's thoughts grate over one of his own fragments- a half remembered childhood with gunpowder in his mouth and a rifle in his hands. Blood splattered on tiny hands, and an empty mind as he killed more than any other child in his unit.

And the loathing that came with that thought, that he had been that child.

Liquid clenched his fist.

"I had been the commander of an army of children when I was twelve." Liquid felt Raiden's surprise as he talked. "You are not the only one groomed from childhood to hold a rifle."

Raiden shifted, and Liquid could see his eyes through the slit in the box. "… Colonel Campbell is acting strangely when he calls."

"Campbell?" Liquid frowned. "He is on this mission? Hm."

"What's up?"

"Nothing. I haven't stayed up to date with what the good Colonel has done since Shadow Moses. I suppose it would be only natural he would be on this mission." Liquid's head absolutely _spiked_ in pain at that, however. He didn't know why.

"… and Snake has my gear. All of it."

Liquid tilted his head slightly, peering around Raiden. "So I see."

"I'll be fine. I just need to get to the hangar. Once I get there, I'll get my stuff and I can take out Solidus."

"Have you seen Ocelot?"

"Yeah. I don't know where he went."

Rage rose in Liquid, making his head hurt worse before he sighed. "I can at least shift the guards' minds so they won't see you in this pathetic state."

"You've already done a lot. And you're going after Ocelot, right?"

"I do have some loyalty to those that have assisted me."

"Your nose is bleeding."

Liquid sighed, irritated. "No matter what I will do, I will be using my psychic abilities. Allow me to at least repay your assistance in keeping me from rushing right into Ocelot's waiting arms."

"… fine." Raiden emerged from the box, his hands awkwardly moving to cover his groin. Embarrassment filled his mind as he did so, a thought of _yeah, of course he'd see me buck naked in the middle of a mission like this_ rushing by so fast that Liquid wasn't sure he caught it.

He deigned not to comment on it.

Randomly, he could feel Raiden answering his codec, and more confusion filling his mind at each call. _Each call gets more and more bizarre,_ he said mentally to Liquid as they slipped behind a guard. _That one was just word salad._

Campbell wasn't senile or mentally ill the last time he heard of him… Liquid frowned.

Finally, they made it past the guards. "Well, I guess that's it." Raiden turned to him, still awkwardly covering his groin. "I guess… thank you."

Liquid waved a hand. "Only finish your mission, Raiden. I suppose now it's to kill the third Snake, Solidus?"

Raiden nodded, his eyes tightening.

"Good luck." Liquid's lips quirked slightly. "'Who dares, wins.'"

Raiden barked out a quick laugh. "You too?"

"Unlike my dear brother, I was actually in the SAS." But he felt real humor in the curve of his lips.

Still chuckling, Raiden nodded. "Yeah. Good luck, Liquid."

"And to you, Raiden."

As Liquid left, his head splitting and his limbs starting to feel heavy with a strange exhaustion, he passed Snake. Instead of saying anything, he only nodded at him.

"Nose still hasn't stopped bleeding."

"I still require my abilities."

Snake grunted. "Good luck."

Liquid took a breath. He hated what he was about to say. "And good luck to you as well, brother."

A surprised grunt met that as Liquid left. But Snake had been useful… and he had been useful for Snake. He supposed he could be the slightest bit cordial towards Snake at this moment.

But the more and more he walked… the more and more he pushed aside minds, the more something rose inside him, unnamed… a fog started to rise in his head. He had never pushed himself to these limits before. But he couldn't give up now. He had to kill Ocelot. He had to get home to Miller with his head held high, Tretij's death avenged, Ocelot's manipulation punished.

He barely noticed when lives died in his head, little flames rapidly snuffed out. This was pathetic. He had been on missions where he used his psychic abilities before. But… always, the bulk of the telepathy had been handled by Tretij. He had _never_ handled a telekinetic situation that wasn't a single "punch this." When he lost control, creating destruction around him… was this similar? Was he running the risk of burning himself out, of becoming nothing more than a husk?

His feet faltered under him. Damn. He was so close to his goal. So close to killing Ocelot… he had gotten greedy. Used too much of himself, thinking there was more to use than there actually was. And his mind still screamed at him, still-

Still-

He wasn't reading minds. He wasn't using his telekinesis. And yet his nose still bled. And yet he-

And yet he-

The cold floor was the last thing he felt against his cheek before the fog consumed his mind.


	52. Chapter 52

Absolute silence met Liquid when he woke.

He grunted, levering himself off the ground. Well, that was embarrassing. Carefully, he reached his mind out, trying to get an idea where the guards were.

Nothing.

A thin line of panic wove through him as he heard guard footsteps come close. He couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds, and the thud of his body hitting the ground must have gotten the guard's attention. So why couldn't he hear the guard's mind? He had heard his mind before. He had pushed the mind aside, even. So why not now?

His mind… his head didn't hurt any longer. Instead, it felt utterly packed with cotton. Just like it had when he had been twelve, and his rage at being pulled away from Tretij by adults with no honorable intentions. The line wormed deeper, memory of Tretij's mental voice asking if he was going to respond, if he had burnt his mind out- had he finally burnt himself out? Had he finally pushed himself so far his psychic abilities were useless?

No. It didn't matter if that was the case. He was still Liquid. Still who he had always been. So instead, he pressed himself up against the crate, waiting for the curious guard to come closer, then pulled the guard into a chokehold, easily snapping his neck. Quickly, he pulled the body aside, hiding out of the patrol of the others. He started moving, not paying attention to where he was going, only that he knew he had to get out of the populated area.

When he pressed his finger to his ear, nothing happened. Liquid grit his teeth. The batch of stolen nanomachines must have finally died in his system. He and Miller had been wary of the quality to begin with, but they had no choice. And now he couldn't call anyone. Raiden, Snake, Emmerich, Miller… no one. He was on his own.

Liquid narrowed his eyes.

Well then. Bring on the challenge.

As he continued walking, he noticed the amount of blood staining the floor, and… the strange lack of bodies and bullets. Liquid walked over to a crate, running his hand over what appeared to be a gash from a sword strike. The ninja? He narrowed his eyes, and continued on.

When he saw Fortune leading his brother away at gunpoint, the rest of the area torn apart by her railgun, Liquid carefully walked behind her, trying to make no noise, his own gun held up at her head. If he shot her… no, it would be useless. He had watched bullets twist away from her in beautiful patterns. How, he wasn't sure. If she had a psychic ability herself, she was using it subconsciously. But if he shot her now, he would at best give himself away and be captured as well. A more likely option would be his bullet would twist to hit Snake and oh would Miller not be pleased with that.

So instead he watched them leave, holstered his gun, and followed.

When he finally caught up with them, Solidus had… what in the hell were those? A type of _tentacle?_ Whatever they were, one was around Raiden's neck, squeezing the life out of him. But it seemed he had grown tired of it, and relaxed his grip, letting Raiden fall. Liquid quickly hid as Fortune turned to leave, cursing the cotton in his head. If he had just a hint of his abilities left, he could reach out and hear what she was thinking, what the conversation was about. The wind buffered their conversation, allowing only a few words. "Arsenal" came across. He _thought_ he heard Ocelot's name, but when he looked back, Fortune and Snake's bodies hid any possible hint that Ocelot stood there as well. More words were spoken, and Liquid braced to hide again when Fortune turned again-

Only for absolute _rage_ to fill him as a laugh carried on the wind.

_Ocelot._

As if Ocelot had planned it, the wind died, his words carrying. The explanation. The manipulation, of why it was so close to Shadow Moses.

But it wasn't a perfect recreation. It didn't allow for Liquid's deception. It was a watered down version, a 'what if' everything had gone to plan. Ocelot's little perfect fantasy, that Liquid had fallen into line and played out once again.

Liquid barged out as soon as he heard the gunshot, images of skull and blood painting the wall as Fortune fell to the ground. He pulled out his gun, aiming, a choked noise coming to his throat as Ocelot didn't even _look_ at him, his hypnotized eyes still playing out his own fantasy in front of him.

Fortune got there first, her railgun pointing true… and the shot flying wide. And again, Ocelot gloating as he patted the device on his hip. An electromagnetic buffer for one that couldn't telekinetically shield himself. Liquid grit his teeth, unable to help himself as his finger squeezed on the trigger, his desire for vengeance filling him to the point he needed to try. Needed to batter at the cotton in his head, insistent he could bend the bullets one last time and make that device useless…

Ocelot didn't even look at him. Liquid didn't exist in his hypnotized world.

He wasn't the only one that tried to shoot him. Solidus's rage pushed him into it as well. But it was useless. Nothing worked. Liquid holstered his gun, ready to just run at Ocelot and cut his bloody _throat_ if he needed to, beat him to a pulp with his own _fists_ , when Ocelot entered the Metal Gear, attacking them. Fortune stood, her steps unsteady as she held her hands out.

And Liquid's back started to crawl, something in the cotton in his head shaking free. Something saying 'you're about to witness something important.'

The missiles raining down on Fortune scattered.

Liquid's breath caught as nothing Ocelot threw at Fortune hit her. It couldn't be luck. Nothing so base. It… had to be…

It didn't matter. Fortune fell, Helena fell, and Liquid swore he could feel her flame flicker out.

And Ocelot escaped. Escaped, speaking in an imitation of Liquid's own voice, forcing himself to think he was possessed by Liquid Snake for his own sick gain, his own sick- Liquid screamed, running after him, diving after him. No! Ocelot was going to break his hypnotism to look right at him and see what his games had created. What he had become, what he was going to do, what was going to happen for daring to manipulate him, daring to kill Tretij, for daring-

Snake had dove with him. Next to him. Reaching for Ocelot as well. They needed- Ocelot needed to die, they needed-

A hand pulled him away. Up. Out of water. Liquid tried to fight, but he didn't realize how weak his muscles were. How much cotton was in his head. How little he could fight against one scrawny scientist hauling him and his brother out of the ocean, telling them a transmitter was on the Metal Gear, they could find Ocelot that way…

Liquid's eyes closed on their own, the bitter realization that Ocelot got away without even realizing Liquid was even there.

He failed.

  


* * *

  


"If you want, we can send you the last known location of Ocelot," Emmerich told Liquid as he drove them across the frozen desolate beauty of Alaska. "I mean, I don't expect you to stay in touch or work with us or anything, but we can help you try to find Ocelot."

Liquid rubbed his head. While he could hear Emmerich's mind again, finally, it sounded like music from another room and muffled with a pillow. It was disconcerting, how close he may have gotten to burning out his own psychic powers just for a failed vengeance. Had he actually killed Ocelot, watched the life die from his eyes, then it would have been worth it. If he had failed and lost a part of himself…

"I suppose so," he finally said, his voice still so tired. He couldn't muster up much more than that. All of his energy had directed inward, healing his own brain of the strain it had been put through. He had no idea how long it would take for it to heal, or what he could do to speed it up. He needed to speed it up, however. He needed to find Ocelot. The man had been right there, so _close_.

If Liquid concentrated, he could feel Emmerich's disappointment at Liquid's lukewarm answer. "Oh. Well… Just think about it."

Liquid let a noncommittal noise escape his lips, closing his eyes. They would be at Miller's soon enough. Miller knew Liquid was fine, if a little banged up psychically. He had relayed that information via Snake since his own nanomachines failed to make contact any longer. That also meant… Miller knew he had failed.

Miller said he was proud of Liquid. He wouldn't be now. Liquid had been so close, and still he failed. Still, he let Ocelot slip through his grasp. It would have been so easy. But he failed in something simple. Why would Miller be proud of him?

The car finally stopped, and Liquid opened his eyes, seeing Miller's house. Slowly, he peeled himself out of the car, feeling strangely stiff. It must have been the mission, and the fact he was still a little injured. He made his way to the door, distantly feeling Miller's mind on the other end.

Miller opened before Liquid knocked, having kept track of their arrival via camera. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Liquid too tired to even say a single thing.

Then Miller nodded at him. "Take a shower and a nap. Dinner will be ready for you when you wake up." He shifted to let Liquid in, then-

"Welcome home, Liquid."


	53. Chapter 53

The tennis ball came straight for Liquid's face, unerring, and he found himself having to raise his hand and catch it. "Damn," he spat, leaning back in his seat.

"How's your head?" Miller leaned forward, resting his arm on the table.

The urge to only say 'fine' and continue on, despite knowing that Miller would see right through him rose. It almost overtook him. He wanted to continue training, continue testing himself to see where his limits were and how far he could go before his mind burnt itself out. But letting it burn out would be counterproductive and Liquid only let out a long breath. "It hurts," he said shortly.

"To the point you can continue, or to the point you're about to pass out?"

Liquid's hand twitched on the ball. He hadn't had the success he wanted with deflecting its path. What success he had was to make it not hit him as it flew, Cecile scrambling after the ball to bring it back to Miller as it bounced on the ground. With a slight snarl, Liquid launched the ball back at Miller, watching the man catch it easily with his hand.

Casually, Miller bounced the ball on the table, making Cecile dance in place next to him. Liquid watched carefully, watched him keep tight control of the ball in his only hand, before he gripped it again, not even pulling his arm back as he throw it at Liquid's face yet again.

He tried. He really did. And the ball did waver in its path, leaning slightly to hit him on his left cheek. Cursing, Liquid rubbed his cheek as Cecile ran for the ball.

"How's your head?"

Liquid knew this was an entirely different question. 'How close are you to burning out?' Gingerly, he touched his nose, relieved there was no blood. "I'm fine."

_Eli, passing out on me again isn't going to do you any good._

"I know." Liquid rubbed his forehead, feeling his head throb. "I only- I need to expand my abilities. I need to push my limits. The next time I am called upon to use them so much, I may not have a choice as to how much I use them. I must be able to use them to their full capacity."

_You're no good if you're unconscious._

"I _know._ " Liquid closed his eyes, starting to feel nauseous.

He heard Miller stand, grabbing his cane and making his way over to him. "Get some rest," Miller said aloud, his voice soft. "Sounds like you have a migraine."

"It shouldn't bloody matter if I have a migraine or not-" Liquid slammed a fist onto the table, regretting it immediately as the noise ran into his head.

"I'll make you some tea." Miller started walking back into the kitchen, and Liquid could hear him shifting his weight around to fix tea with only one hand, one hand that usually braced itself so he could walk with one flesh and blood leg and one primitive prosthetic. Slowly, Liquid stood, starting over to the couch, laying down and throwing one arm across his eyes.

Hearing Miller in the kitchen always felt… nice. Liquid knew he would refuse unsolicited help, so he would always perform other chores that needed to be done unless Miller needed a second hand. It wasn't as often as Liquid originally thought that he was called over. But right now… Liquid only rested, feeling his head pound against his skull. He could hear Kazu lay down next to him, her fur brushing against his dangling opposite hand.

After a moment, Liquid heard Miller come closer. "The tea's ready."

Liquid grunted, not yet getting up.

Miller only walked back to the table, each tap of his cane going through Liquid's head like a spear.

Finally, Liquid sat up slowly, his spine aching slightly at the movement. He stood, trying not to step on Kazu as he walked over to the table, seeing the cold pack already on the table as well as he sat down. Without a word, he pressed the pack against the back of his neck and closed his eyes. He let it sit there for a while, then put it back onto the table as he reached out for the tea.

_I need to talk to Otacon._

Liquid opened one eye, looking at Miller. He knew Miller didn't direct that at him and it was an idle thought. But why would he need to speak with Emmerich? He made a questioning noise, and Miller only sighed.

"Would it help for me to tell you to stay out of my mind?"

"I haven't done it yet."

Miller chuckled. "That's true." The humor drained away as he sat down. "You look much older than a normal 37 year old. You're graying, and dramatically. I'm pretty certain there's more gray than blond."

"You're seeing things," Liquid said flatly, running a hand through his hair. "And didn't Father gray early?"

Miller shook his head. "I need to talk to Otacon to see if Snake's aging fast too," he said, drumming his fingers against the table, drawing Amanda's attention. She made her way over to the table, whining at Miller. Absently, he reached down, fingers digging into her fur as he thought. "You two are clones, Liquid. And you said Solidus looked older than the both of you. I just want to make sure I'm not seeing things."

Liquid just closed his eyes. His head hurt too much to argue more about this. Instead, he sipped on his rapidly cooling tea, trying to will away the migraine.

"… anyway." He could hear Amanda whine, which only meant Miller pulled his hand away. "You should go rest. We'll practice again later."

"Mm." Liquid opened his eyes, looking at Miller.

_It'll be okay, Eli. No matter what it is, it won't stop you._

"Hah. Of course it won't." Liquid smiled a little at him. He finished his tea, standing slowly and heading for the stairs. He needed to lay down. Sleep off the migraine.

But when he reached his room, he looked at the mirror instead. Of course, he looked tired. A long day of practicing his psychic abilities would do that. Liquid ran a hand through his hair, checking. It… looked lighter than he remembered? Frowning, he looked closer, then jolted as he realized no, not lighter.

_Grayer._

Had he also had so many lines on his face? His body wasn't soft, not with how much he trained, but it had started to ache, his joints protesting early in the morning at the stairs-

Liquid's hand trembled in his hair.

He… had to be seeing things. He… he couldn't…

He _couldn't._

If he died because his body thought it was too old to keep living before he stole Ocelot's life-!

Liquid balled up his fists, pressing them against his sharply aching forehead as he breathed heavily.

He had to find Ocelot. Soon.

And perhaps kill everyone that had a hand in making his existence and decided to play a joke on him if he managed to grow old enough.


	54. Chapter 54

"It's almost elegant, how war has been delegated to those not invested in the country," Liquid muttered, looking around the corner. "Brother, have you managed to connect to Otacon?" That codename.. Liquid had finally learned what it meant and he couldn't help but say it with some disbelief each time.

Snake grunted. "No. Any connection I get is patchy at best, and drops within two seconds."

"Well of course it does. That only fits." Liquid let out a long breath as he scanned the minds around him. "There are only civilians around us. But our pursuers are not that far behind. We should start moving towards the docks."

"Have you managed to get ahold of Miller?"

"My connection is the same. And if I continue to use my abilities, my connection only gets worse." He had already hated using a codec. Now it was worse. If he overused his psychic abilities, as he did on the Big Shell, his nanomachines stopped working until his mind healed. "Did you at least get the information you required?" he asked, looking back at him.

Snake nodded. "Yeah. We needed this information."

"I suppose it would be useless asking for what."

"Just a promise I made."

Liquid made a noncommittal sound. "We should attempt nanocommunication again," he said instead, raising his hand to his ear.

Snake did the same, and what happened was what Liquid expected: Static. Their nanomachines were misfiring. Perhaps something in the air had been tampering with their nanomachines. Liquid sighed, shaking his head. "This is going to make this mission a bitch," Snake grumbled.

Liquid rolled his eyes. "Come along. Act casual." He looked over at Snake as he heard the click of a lighter, and glared. "That was not permission to light up."

Blowing out a stream of smoke, Snake shrugged. "It's casual for me."

"How are you able to work as well as you do with those smoker's lungs?" Liquid muttered, adjusting his coat. "Fine." He slipped his hands into his coat's pockets, careful of what one pocket held, and held his head high as he walked. The temperature, on paper, was right for a thin coat. Liquid, naturally, found the coat to be stifling, particularly over a linen shirt. But he knew how to pretend, and he wore the clothing as if the weather truly demanded it. The coat at least hid his weapons from the unsuspecting public.

And he could feel the PMC soldiers behind them, closing in quickly.

Without saying anything, Liquid turned down an alley, Snake moving almost at the same time. The two of them walked at each other's side, just far enough apart that Liquid could still brush the minds of those around him. He could see Snake exhaling a plume of smoke next to him, almost hiding a slight tensing of muscles as they walked. "How does your partner deal with you smelling like an ashtray?"

"With a lecture with how I shouldn't smoke," Snake told him, deadpan.

Liquid snorted. "And how many times has he confiscated your cigarettes, only for you to procure more?"

"He stopped trying in 2010."

Liquid outright laughed at that. "He tried far longer than I expected him to try."

Snake only grunted at that, snubbing out his finished cigarette.

Drawing breath to speak, at they exited the alley near a rather charming café, Liquid opened his mouth-

And he and Snake turned at the same time, pulling their guns as five PMC members jumped off the café building and landed to their left, making the civilians scream and scatter. Without a word, the two of them fired, aiming for the parts not armored, Liquid even managing to shoot one through the eye. Once they fell, Liquid scanned the minds around them, frowning. "They're much closer than I expected."

Snake only nodded, his eyes casting around him warily.

The two of them started back towards the docks at the same time, their pace quickened. "The plan was Otacon to meet us, yes?" Liquid asked shortly, using both his physical and psychic senses to assess the threat around him.

"We have to get to the boat first."

"Oh of course we do." Liquid and Snake turned at the same time, catching another group of PMCs coming out of a building. "I do hope pissing off a powerful man with access to PMCs for a single piece of information was worth it, brother," Liquid commented casually as he reloaded, the last soldier dropping.

"We have a better idea what Ocelot's doing now."

"… it was worth it."

Snake chuckled at that, a humorless noise.

Once again, they moved towards the docks. Liquid pressed himself up against a wall as they grew close, looking around the corner as he felt more soldier minds. He looked back at Snake, who nodded behind him. Liquid reached his mind out, and nodded his approval, starting down the path Snake indicated. Snake remained at his back, watching for anyone sneaking in behind them, and Liquid keeping all his senses in front of them.

Finally, the docks came into view. Liquid came to a stop, brushing over the minds. Instead of saying anything, he leveled his gun at what would normally appear to be a bored man, speaking into a phone about a date that had come yet. He could feel Snake coming up beside him, his own gun coming up.

The two of them dropped the two soldiers waiting for them, pretending to be civilians.

Getting to the boat was easy enough after that. For a moment, Liquid and Snake glared at each other, not willing to let the other guide the boat. But eventually Liquid rolled his eyes, letting Snake have it as he went to check the minds around him. He would be better utilized this way anyway.

It was almost sad how easily they were able to get to the rendezvous point where Emmerich and Miller waited for them. They two of them jumped off the boat, Liquid going to tie it to the dock as Snake pulled out… something. It looked like some sort of electronic storage device. He handed that to Emmerich, who smiled widely. "Thanks, Snake," Emmerich chirped, putting it in one of his pockets. "You two okay? I was so worried when you just cut out like that."

"I'm fine," Snake told him, gruff voice lighter now.

Miller chuckled, going over to Liquid. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd get along with Snake without someone else around to tell you two to play nice," he told him quietly, leaning on his cane.

Liquid shrugged. "It was a mission. We had to work together. That was all."

Miller's lips curled in a smile. "Well, did you get what you needed?"

Nodding, Liquid pulled out a wad of papers from his own pocket. Miller took the papers with his mechanical hand, shifting to rifle through them, then looked over at Emmerich. "You were right. This was one of Ocelot's PMCs."

"Damn." Liquid smirked, still amused whenever Emmerich swore. Snake rubbed off on the engineer more than the two of them realized. "Ocelot hid it well, then. And his group's starting to get really powerful, then, if they're being used here."

"We need to keep an eye on them." Miller handed the papers over to Emmerich. "You work your magic on this and see what else we can find out."

"Yeah, of course."

Liquid nodded at Miller as he turned. "Shall we go?" he asked, feeling his bones ache slightly in the rapidly cooling weather.

Instead of answering, Miller threw him the keys. "I need to talk to Otacon."

Liquid sighed, and went to the car, turning it on as he relaxed. Damn the accelerated aging. He could see it in Snake as well. They were barely 40, and they both looked well into their 60s. Perhaps older. Liquid closed his eyes, almost letting himself melt into the seat as he reached his mind back towards Miller's.

Of course Miller was talking about the mission, about Ocelot… about the aging? Emmerich didn't know anything either, when Liquid brushed his mind. But they were looking into it. He wanted Snake to undergo some medical testing, which Snake disliked. And after everything that he had gone through, Liquid understood. He didn't wish to be a lab rat either.

_If Eli keeps aging like this, I'm going to outlive him._

Liquid opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

He stayed like that until Miller entered the car, and looked over at him. At that time, he looked over at Miller, not hiding on his face that he had heard that thought. "I'll stay with you as long as I can, Kazuhira," he said softly.

"I know." Miller exhaled, buckling his seatbelt. "I know."

Liquid looked at him for a little bit longer, then went to put the car into reverse, ready to return back to their home.


	55. Chapter 55

"Otacon finally contacted me," Miller called over his shoulder to Liquid.

"Please, Kazuhira, do not use that ridiculous codename unless we are on a mission," Liquid pleaded, still shadowboxing.

Miller only chuckled to himself. "It doesn't change the fact that I just got an encrypted email from him. And if he hadn't already given me the key, I don't think I could have broken this encryption. He's really gotten this down."

"I would hope so. Computers and coding were something he always excelled at." Liquid finally dropped his arms, coming over to Miller to look over his shoulder, clasping the other shoulder as he did so. "What does Emmerich have to say?"

"I'll spare you the biology," Miller told him, humor filling his voice for a moment before dropping completely. "But it looks like they finally finished the tests on Snake. The results don't look good, Eli. And considering you're incredibly genetically similar to him…"

Liquid narrowed his eyes. "What's the prognosis?"

Miller fell quiet, and Liquid reached his mind out. _A year, Eli. You're going to live maybe another year._

A year.

Liquid pulled back, his hand still on Miller's shoulder.

 _No matter what, we are going to find Ocelot._ Miller reached up with his flesh and bone hand, gripping Liquid's. _We're going to make the most of this last year._

Only one last year to find Ocelot. One last year to make good on his promise to kill Snake after he did so. One last year… Liquid squeezed Miller's shoulder, closing his eyes. "We must work quickly," he said quietly. "I do not wish for Death to claim me with my work unfinished."

_Emmerich's been working on tracking Ocelot. He's said he'll let us know when he finds anything._

Liquid nodded, finally pulling his hand back and opening his eyes. "Are the three of them still living on that silly aircraft?"

"They have a daughter to protect now," Miller reminded him. "It's difficult to ambush them in the air and hurt Sunny."

"Does having a child really change your behavior that much?"

Miller only chuckled. "I spent so much time trying to childproof my house before Cathy was born only for her to find new ways to hurt herself. And I didn't realize how easily I would die for her."

"Hm." Liquid frowned. He couldn't fathom it. But he supposed if he ever met Catherine he might have understood. Sunny… Liquid couldn't help but feel a little intimidated every time he interacted with her. Certainly, Liquid could see she wasn't a physical threat, and seemed rather like Emmerich when he first met him. But such an intelligence at such a young age… if she had been even a little like Liquid at that age, a new world threat may have been ready to emerge. It was perhaps a good thing she had such a good disposition.

"I'm going to set up a meeting with Emmerich," Miller told him, his flesh and blood hand going to the keyboard. "Can you start dinner?"

"Certainly." Liquid turned towards the kitchen, feeling his ponytail sway between his shoulder blades. It had long gone white, and he kept it a good deal longer so whenever he and Snake met, the chances of him dissociating were lower. While it happened less and less as the years went on, and almost completely disappearing once Snake starting growing that ridiculous mustache, Liquid still enjoyed looking as dissimilar to his twin as possible.

Of all the things they had shared over the years, of all the truths… Liquid had never told them how broken he was. How his mind had been torn apart, and how he had never been able to put everything back together properly. Perhaps, that was something he should tell them. But it never compromised the mission, and he could ground himself fairly quickly. With luck, they would never need to know. But…

Liquid closed his eyes, salt in his hand.

Over the years, he couldn't help but admit his abilities may include a slight amount of clairvoyance. Never anything he could control, or even completely understand. There were many times he couldn't tell if what he felt was only his lifetime as a tool of war helping him see the cogs falling into place, or if an extra sense prompted him. Now happened to be one such time. He knew that such secrets usually could not stay secret forever. This particular one could very easily finally compromise the mission at the worst time. But he wasn't sure if this feeling was the soldier inside him realizing this, or a precognitive nudge to reveal the secret, as he _will_ compromise a mission and he would need Snake's assistance.

A safe bet would be to reveal the secret. To tell them so if things turned sour, they could salvage the situation. And if he never compromised a mission, then he never compromised a mission.

Carefully, Liquid reached his mind backwards, trying to nudge Miller's mind. Just to get his attention. He couldn't send thoughts back, but he wanted to at least have Miller look at him. If he could slide people's attention off of him, it would stand to reason that he could make people pay attention to him. Right?

But Miller didn't seem to notice.

He never did whenever Liquid tried it.

Opening his eyes, Liquid let out a long breath and continued cooking. He'd say something during the meeting. Be it a psychic nudge or his soldier instincts, he wouldn't ignore it.

He already learned that lesson.

  


* * *

  


"You should have been here a day earlier," Emmerich said lightly, sitting down across from Liquid. "Did Miller tell you what Campbell told us?"

Liquid nodded. "You found Ocelot."

Emmerich nodded, pushing up his glasses. "Campbell still thinks it's you, and we're not letting anyone know that Ocelot's just hypnotizing himself and you're still alive. But he's found where Ocelot's going to be next. He's planning an insurrection in the Middle East."

Oh. And that would be why every part of him screamed to tell them about what happened in Iraq. "Then I wish Snake the best of luck," Liquid said flatly.

"Huh? Liquid, I thought-"

"I cannot return to the Middle East." Each word felt like broken glass forced from his lips. "During my time as a POW in Iraq, I fell into the hands of one well versed with tearing a person's mind apart psychically. I still cannot remember everything about, or even before that time. Because of that torture, certain events cause rather severe dissociation. I've learned to control it for the most part, but returning to the Middle East, I feel, would not be something that would be beneficial to my mental health."

"Geez." Sympathy swirled inside Emmerich, never quite tipping into pity. "What do you want to do, then? I mean, I can't imagine you being completely off this mission."

Liquid narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly. "How do you plan to provide support?"

"Well…" Emmerich turned to a nearby workbench, picking up a little robot and placing it on the ground. "Sunny and I have been working on this. Metal Gear Mk. II."

"It's… tiny," Liquid said, baffled.

"Well, yes." Emmerich pushed his glasses up, nervousness bleeding into physical movement. "It's not meant to be a weapon of destruction. It's meant to be support. It can do reconnaissance, carry gear, all kinds of things. It's remote controlled too, which means I can control it from here. I don't need to be on the battlefield to help Snake."

"Why couldn't you have built this bloody thing years ago?" Liquid couldn't help the exasperated tone in his voice. "And I assume this will be sent with Snake to the Middle East?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Liquid examined it, picking it up. He knew Emmerich and Sunny were experts at this sort of thing (only making Liquid even more wary of Sunny. She could only get better from here, in the many years she had ahead of her), so he didn't bother wondering about the tiny Metal Gear's quality. "You said it can do reconnaissance… are you able to communicate with Snake with this thing?"

"Yeah."

"And do you speak Arabic?"

"Huh? Why do you ask?"

"I assume Snake speaks Arabic, as he was also deployed in Iraq," Liquid told him. "But if you are to control this thing and bring the information back to Snake, do you understand Arabic well enough to communicate what is happening around him?"

Emmerich fell silent at that.

"I speak Arabic." Liquid handed the robot back to Emmerich. "I rather dislike being pushed into a backup role like this, but I can certainly assist in this capacity."

Emmerich nodded. "Okay then. You sure you'll be okay hearing Arabic, though?"

"I should be able to ground myself quickly enough. The _Nomad_ is the furthest thing from where I was being kept that it should be enough, and having you speaking English should also help."

It was obvious Emmerich didn't like that, but he only nodded. "Okay. I'll let Snake know."

Liquid let out a long breath as Emmerich stood. It should be him on the field, not Snake. Him, finding Ocelot. Killing Ocelot.

But he would be useless if he entered the Middle East again.

And that little part of Ocelot, that little part that still knew who he was, that little part that hadn't been pulled under, knew that.

"Damn you, Ocelot," Liquid whispered, his fist clenched against his knee.

"Y-y-you shouldn't say a b-b-bad word."

Liquid looked up suddenly, seeing little Sunny there with her skillet. He had been so enthralled in his own thoughts he hadn't felt her mind come closer. "Ah-"

"J-just because of t-t-that, you d-don't get any eggs," she told him, turning away and leaving.

… he simply did not understand children.


	56. Chapter 56

Perhaps Liquid overestimated himself.

Somehow, he had found a pen that clicked open, and he found himself clicking it relentlessly. He could barely keep himself grounded enough to relay to Emmerich what was being spoken. It happened to be one of those things he understood- but at the same time, this was pathetic. Barely being able to perform backup for his dear brother. All for the barest hope that Ocelot would be dead at the end of it.

Emmerich looked over at him as he clicked the pen, his eyes flickering down to his hands, then back up to his face. "You going to be okay there, Liquid?"

"Yes. Let's continue."

Suddenly, his eyes popped open as something very _large_ landed near the tiny Metal Gear. How- what- The sound it made echoed through the air, almost bone chilling if it wasn't for the fact he could make out, under the sheer intense _resonance_ of the noise, that whatever it was filled his ears with _mooing_. "What in the world…?"

"Gekko." Emmerich looked over at Liquid, his lips curling sympathetically. "Yeah. We felt the same way." He leaned forward, his fingers against his ear as he started leading Snake around the battlefield. Liquid only sat there, baffled. It was something large, and… mooing? He looked over at Emmerich's screen, seeing him lead his little robot around, just barely able to see the legs of the Gekko in the distance. "Something up, Liquid?"

"No, nothing." Liquid settled back, lifting his hand onto the table so he could watch his thumb click the pen. Mooing robots. Who in the world…

But finally things calmed a bit, and Liquid relaxed. He looked over at Sunny, watching her tend to the chickens. Most likely to Emmerich's eyes, she did so with happiness and little care to the world. Liquid only felt intense worry for Snake… and for Liquid. When she glanced briefly over at Liquid, the worry spiked, her eyes darting from his face to the pen in his hands.

 _I wonder if there's anything I can do for him…_ Sunny's mental thoughts were much easier to listen to than her physical words. The shy stutter didn't transfer to her thoughts, making understanding her much easier. Making it far more obvious to Liquid how intelligent she was when he touched her mind, hearing the spin of things he could barely understand merrily run through her head.

But then Sunny noticed his attention on her, and she frowned, turning away, a flush crawling across her face. _Don't read my thoughts!_

It was strange, having never kept from someone his abilities. But they had never hidden from Sunny what Liquid could do. They hadn't kept a lot from Sunny, it seemed.

But Liquid pulled his mind back, turning his attention back to Emmerich and Snake. Things had picked up, but nothing too extreme. And Snake had found a calmer spot now. "What's that clicking noise?" Snake finally asked, his voice grumbling over the codec.

"Liquid found one of my pens." Emmerich looked over at Liquid, a rueful smile on his face. "It helps him out."

Snake grunted.

"I would recommend not making any comments," Liquid told them, his voice flat.

"I won't say anything." Snake's voice will something that sounded like… understanding? Hm. When he did look over Snake's files again, this time with Miller, he did see something about possible PTSD after killing their Father. Perhaps his twin did understand a bit better than Liquid thought he did.

But when his dear twin finally made it to a quiet spot, the voice that filled the air, too smooth to be anything but a con- Liquid grit his teeth, wishing he could be there to read this Drebin's mind. Sunny instantly was at her spot as soon as Drebin started talking, using everything she had to find who this person was. Using Drebin's voice, name, face, profession… She sent the information quickly to Emmerich via their strange messaging program, knowing her shy stutter would slow their flow of information.

All those places Drebin ended up… Liquid narrowed his eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if he was far more than he seemed. But… Liquid clicked the pen, agitated. Drebin offered a good deal: Being able to use ID locked guns. If Liquid happened to be on the field, he would have leaned towards doing anything to take Drebin's offer if only to not deal with the blasted ID locked guns any longer.

But his voice, his demeanor… nothing about Drebin told Liquid he was to be trusted.

Or perhaps was that an extra sense?

Liquid narrowed his eyes.

Even if Drebin could not be trusted, they had no choice but to take his offer. Fewer and fewer guns were available without ID locks. Liquid himself would have to track down Drebin the next time he went out into the field so he didn't run into the same issue. It… was a sad fact of life.

It didn't stop Liquid from breaking the pen when Drebin injected Snake with suppressor nanomachines.

How he _disliked_ the entire thing. But he would have to do the same. Put his life in the hands of this… Drebin.

Emmerich looked over at him, seeing the ink drip from his fingers. "That was my favorite pen, Liquid," he told him, his voice reproachful.

"You can bill Miller the damages," Liquid said back, the words clipped.

Emmerich only shook his head.

Sunny curled up slightly at her computer, steadfastly not looking at Liquid. Without even reading her mind, Liquid could tell her anxiety had spiked when he cracked the pen. But he had no kind words for her at the moment. No soothing words to calm her, to let her know things weren't going to turn against her.

He had nothing soothing him at the moment, anyway.


	57. Chapter 57

Sunny handed him another pen, looking away as she did. "Thank you," Liquid muttered, taking the pen and twirling it absently in his fingers. This one also clicked to open, but he didn't quite utilize that property quite yet. He didn't need it as of yet. Snake was only in the middle of sneaking through the battlefield. Rather boring. Liquid could handle this easily, and Emmerich and Sunny made it easier. He heard their minds around him, a far cry from what he had encountered back in Iraq.

So he looked down at the pen, watching the remains of the ink on his fingers stain the plastic. He wasn't really needed at the exact moment. But something bugged him. Something-

Liquid sighed.

"Hm?" Emmerich looked over at him. "Something wrong, Liquid?"

"Perhaps. I feel as if there's something about to happen."

That made Emmerich turn fully to him. "Are you saying you see something we're not? Like, you see something happening around Snake?"

"Perhaps." Liquid started clicking the pen, agitated. How he wanted to physically harm something. But not here. Not in front of Sunny. Her intelligence would be needed for this mission, and he didn't want to scare her away. If he bled the agitation into the pen, it should keep him from psychically harming something as well. "But I cannot say if it's something important to Snake or to me."

"Hm." Emmerich pushed his glasses up, turning back to his screen. "Well, what do you see? Maybe we can figure it out together."

"I cannot _say_ ," Liquid told him, exasperated. "It's either because I was born and raised to be nothing but a dog of war that can recognize these things, or a little extra kick from something that defies explanation. Either way, there is something about to happen."

Emmerich nodded slightly. "I'll let Snake know." He started to call Snake on the codec, then paused, alarm thrumming through him physically and mentally. Liquid immediately leaned over, his mind reaching out for Emmerich's to see what he did, listening as someone started talking to Snake.

 _Snake's been caught by someone._ Emmerich started typing, frowning. _He sounds familiar, though…_

"He does, doesn't he," Liquid muttered absently, making both Emmerich and Sunny startle. Where had he heard that voice before? It plucked at strings inside him that he felt should have long been buried. Liquid clicked the pen, trying to place it.

And then the woman that stopped Snake, that recognized Snake's CQC… she also sounded so _familiar._ Liquid narrowed his eyes, tracks in snow coming to mind as she spoke, cold steel and blood and-

"Meryl?" Emmerich straightened suddenly, surprised.

"Silverburgh?" Liquid sat back. The Silverburgh woman was there? How? Why?

She had to be far more competent than back at Shadow Moses. Being Snake's informant, and the apparent leader of this little group… the little groupie had come far. And if he thought back to Shadow Moses, placing voices to those he knew, that would mean the voice of the person that adorably tried to hold Snake up belonged to… Sasaki? No, that couldn't be right. He couldn't possibly still be in the business.

But as he listened to Silverburgh, he couldn't help but be a little impressed by her professionalism. And wonder who the woman with Ocelot could be. If Liquid's mental health could have handled it, he would have said to capture the woman, as her importance to Ocelot could only benefit them if they held her. But all Liquid could do was listen, narrowing his eyes. Some of the things she said… chilled him. Nanomachines… at one time, the cutting edge of technology, a needed boost for a soldier. Now, a requirement of war and damned near a choke chain for a soldier, ready to yank at the slightest hint of disobedience.

Though, it was interesting to know that even Silverburgh didn't know that Ocelot was only hypnotizing himself… how few people knew that?

And then Emmerich and Sunny's mind exploded in alarm as Snake and Silverburgh's little group were attacked. Liquid grit his teeth, watching them fight through the tiny Metal Gear. At least most of Silverburgh's team was competent. It impressed him for that, at least, considering the last time he had seen Silverburgh had been her knocked out after being caught by Wolf.

"The System seems like it's really something," Emmerich mumbled to himself as he watched Silverburgh and her team move as one to take out a team, listening to her explanation after.

"It's a fake sense of security," Liquid said dismissively. "We've seen that nanomachines can fail. And as Silverburgh has indicated… it's possible this System could be more a detriment than a boon."

"Maybe." Emmerich reached out, answering Snake's call. Liquid narrowed his eyes as he listened, grudgingly agreeing with Snake. SOP wasn't the path solders should take. False skills implemented by nanomachines, and when those failed, where did that leave them? And whatever would happen if the Patriots decided to turn SOP deadly?

It wasn't a happy thought.

So he only listened to Snake heading for Ocelot, absently explaining things to Emmerich when needed. Finally calming. Finally-

His head snapped up.

Sobbing. Mechanical.

A raven's cry and a distorted voice, coming near then far, the only word being "Rage!"

Insane laughter, the hint of a female voice crying "Laugh with me!"

And then, through the tiny Metal Gear's eyes, the sight of a man puppeted into shooting his own teammates, then-

_Hm. You're noisy._

_… aren't you going to respond, Eli?_

_The ghost feeling of his fingers on his hips, and the press of the gas mask against his skin._

_Are you going to stay under the box forever, Boss?_

_Maybe some day we'll piece your fragments together again. Eli._

_fragments of his skull painting the wall_

_His fingers brushed over the bare skull exposed, covered in sticky blood_

"How dare," Liquid hissed. "How _dare._ "

"Liq-" Emmerich started, turning to him, his eyes wide. "You're losing control. My desk's shaking."

"He is _dead._ Ocelot killed him personally. How _dare_ he defile Mantis's memory like this. How _dare_ he-" Liquid growled under his breath, putting the pen down so he didn't break yet another one, even though he had a feeling he was about to do so telekinetically anyway. "How _dare_."

Sunny just glanced over at him and shifted, uneasy. She didn't understand. She didn't need to. No one had told her Liquid and Tretij's history and no one needed to tell her now. Liquid wasn't about to tell her how he had met him as a child, grown to love him, only to have him ripped away just as he was on the verge of realizing it, on the verge of having it all. Sunny did not need to know that.

But Ocelot… how _dare_ he. How _dare._

If Snake didn't kill him, Liquid would kill Snake for failing. Then rip Ocelot into tiny bits for defiling Tretij's memory with this new nanomachine ridden Mantis.


	58. Chapter 58

"Who gave her this email address?" Miller muttered under his breath. "I didn't know she was still alive. I didn't even know she knew what a _computer_ was."

"Hm?" Liquid looked up from where he was cleaning his rifle. "Who is this now?"

"Just someone from the Diamond Dogs days." Miller clicked something, rotating his neck.

"I assume someone still in the business and heard about the disaster that happened in the Middle East." Liquid's voice turned sour. The way the soldiers had suddenly acted, and how it had compromised Snake's mission, Snake himself… It had been a disaster from start to finish. And if Liquid had been there… oh, how it would have been an even worse show, perhaps even ruining all future chances to kill Ocelot forever. How he wanted to have been there, however. The utter _mockery_ of Tretij's memory, of his death… how dare Ocelot even imagine it.

Miller made a disgusted noise. "It doesn't matter. We went our separate ways decades ago. I never trusted her anyway."

"Hm." Liquid finished cleaning the barrel and reassembled the rifle, going over to Miller. He had already deleted the email. Disappointing. Liquid wished to see who it was that contacted him. "Quite sad. She might have been useful."

"She always was," Miller told him, still disgusted. "Anyway. I received a message from Otacon."

"You're doing that on purpose now, Kazuhira."

Amusement ran through Miller's thoughts. "Do you remember Naomi Hunter?"

A growl ripped from Liquid's throat. Oh, did he. Not personally, but he knew her fingerprints, the taint running through his blood, ready to attack and kill him at any moment. "What about treacherous bug?"

Instead of answering, Miller pulled up the message from Emmerich. There was an attachment, which Miller opened, showing a video of this Dr. Naomi Hunter. An attractive backstabber, Liquid noticed distantly. But it made it easier to fool others if one's features pleased the eyes. Liquid himself had used it as a weapon when he had still ran missions, after all. He watched the video, frowning more and more. "Is she saying what runs through my veins is a _nanomachine_ virus?" Liquid asked, his voice disbelieving. "Is everything run by nanomachines now?"

"Keep watching."

Once the video completed, Liquid crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing at the frozen image on the screen. "I assume there is a reason you showed me this."

"If we extract Dr. Hunter from her location, we can cripple Ocelot's plans, and potentially keep him from repeating his little trick from the Middle East." Miller sat back in his chair. "That way, you should be able to kill him without getting smacked with whatever he's doing."

"Hm." Liquid eyed Naomi's digitalized face. It rankled, the idea of saving the woman that placed death in his body via his twin, but he couldn't refute Miller's words. "I assume Snake is already planning on going?"

"We're still deciding if Snake's ready to be deployed on this mission, or if you're going."

"I would shoot her on sight," Liquid said flatly.

"Consider it a training exercise. Keep your temper."

"I never said it would be a fatal shot."

"No shooting the target."

Liquid snorted. "Then you and Emmerich have already made the decision to send me."

"The issue we're running into is no one knows you're still alive. Sending you might break that illusion."

Liquid shrugged. "I do not look like that child that attempted to overtake the world in a Metal Gear any longer."

"Which time?"

"You are hilarious." Liquid's voice held no humor. "I look far older than Shadow Moses now. Silverburgh could barely recognize Snake. Dr. Hunter never met me. I feel I would be completely unrecognizable to her."

Miller nodded a little to that. "She's going to expect Snake, though."

"She will have to get used to disappointment." Liquid sighed. "Are you certain I cannot harm her?"

"We need her."

_And… Eli, she created FOXDIE. She could know how to reverse it. Make the nanomachines inert._

Liquid's breath stuttered for a moment at that thought. He had a year at best left in his natural life. Dr. Hunter's tinkering could cut that dramatically short. But if she could kill the FOXDIE in his system, allow him to live the remaining year to its fullest after Ocelot drew his last breath-

"Where is Dr. Hunter being held?"

"South America. Otacon sent me all the information he has so far."

"If you keep calling Emmerich 'Otacon' I promise you will be sleeping on the couch tonight."

Miller chuckled. "It means a lot to him, Liquid." He looked over at him, and Liquid didn't need to read his mind to know he was thinking of Liquid's former full codename, and how it echoed his twin's, his father's.

"I suppose." The words came out grudgingly.

Miller chuckled again. "I'll coordinate the mission with Emmerich," he told Liquid, mercifully not using the ridiculous codename. "We'll pin down Dr. Hunter's exact location and anything else about it we can find."

"Then I should expect to be deployed on this mission in perhaps less than a week?"

"Two days at most, I would think."

Liquid nodded. Enough time to ready his gear.

"It's getting late, Kazuhira," he finally said, clasping his shoulder.

"I'll come to bed in a bit," he said, distracted. "You go shower. You stink."

Liquid snorted, tilting his gaze at the stairs. He had long not been able to reliably climb and descend the stairs, particularly in the cold weather Alaska tended to lean towards, barring him from the room he had called his own since he started living there. Sleeping in the same bed as Miller on the first floor had helped that problem, and… helped quite a few more, quelling nightmares he hadn't realized he had. Liquid never realized how much he craved waking next to another body until he opened his eyes, looking at the rare moment of Kazuhira Miller at peace and drooling into his pillow.

If extracting Dr. Naomi Hunter allowed him to have those moments until the moment of his natural death, a death not hastened by FOXDIE, he would perform this mission with a smile.


	59. Chapter 59

Liquid watched, fascinated, as the sneaking suit changed from its default camo to the color and texture of the _Nomad's_ wall. "And all I must do is press up against something if to change my camo?"

"Yup!" Emmerich smiled, proud of himself. "It just takes a few seconds to take effect."

"Interesting…" Liquid murmured as he pulled his arm away from the wall, flexing his fingers. The camo remained, making Liquid smile a little, the curve of lips without humor. He deactivated the effect, watching it bleed back to blue.

Emmerich leaned forward, lacing his fingers together as he placed his elbows on the table. "We'll keep looking for Ocelot," he promised. "And who knows, maybe Naomi has information as to where he is. Just… bring Naomi back alive."

Snake grunted from where he sat, the cigarette in his mouth, unlit. Liquid could tell it didn't sit well with him that Liquid was going in his place. Both of them knew that his every move would be watched by the Mk. II, the tiny Metal Gear he was still a little impressed by, but Snake quite obviously still did not like this idea. "You have something to say," Liquid shot at him, letting humor bleed into his voice to hide the words made his head spin a bit. He knew the words had a connotation he didn't like, but it felt his mind wanted to protect him from what it happened to be.

Instead of answering, Snake only grunted again.

"You're going to go ahead of us," Emmerich said, ignoring Snake. "Here, this is the Solid Eye. Give it a try."

Liquid picked it up, disgust visible on his face. "What a hi-tech eyepatch." It reminded him too much of the phantom of his father he had met, the man that he had called 'Father' while his developing telepathy had screamed at him the word was a lie.

"Just try it, Liquid." Snake's words came out rolling on a gravel voice.

With a sigh, Liquid slipped it over his eye, turning it on. "I see," he murmured as the world around him turned into a type of Soliton Radar, marking Emmerich and Snake as friendly units. Looking upward, he could see Sunny as well, her figure marked as friendly. He examined the capabilities of the Solid Eye for a few moments, nodding to himself as he saw what it could do before turning it off and slipping the Solid Eye off. "I see. I do suppose it would be useful in the field. No special nanomachines needed, I hope?"

Those words made Emmerich lean forward, frowning. "Snake can use ID locked guns due to the nanomachines Drebin injected him with, but you can't. You have to be careful, Liquid. Look for ammo where you can."

"You act as if I have never been on a mission before," Liquid said, affronted. "I am quite aware how to do this, Emmerich."

"The last time you've done a sneaking mission had to be back in your FOXHOUND days in the early 2000s," Emmerich pointed out. "It's been at least a decade."

Liquid curled his lip. "I am not Snake. You do not need to nag me like you are my overprotective wife. I believe that would be Kazuhira's job."

It had gotten to the point Liquid didn't need to read Snake's mind to understand what he was thinking. The poisonous glare he shot at Liquid spoke volumes. Emmerich stammered, pushing up his glasses as embarrassment ran through his mind. "A-anyway," Emmerich finally said, sorting through the embarrassment to regain his professionalism. "Just be careful."

"Of course."

  


* * *

  


Leading Campbell to believe Snake was on the field was fairly easy. Emmerich had patched Liquid in to the codec call ( _Codec._ After hearing what he had about the SOP, he wished for these nanomachines that made the codec system possible to die in his system and never return), allowing him to listen in. It was disgusting, how he agreed with Snake about the destruction of SOP, but he couldn't speak up and add his voice to the conversation. They needed to let Campbell believe he was dead.

Liquid brushed over the minds below, using the Solid Eye to confirm what he saw. While it only confirmed what his mind heard, Liquid had learned over the years that physical verification wasn't to be discounted. Not to mention now he had faces to put to the minds he heard. His mind kept scanning with his physical senses-

Bile rose in his throat as something _wrong_ filled his head. Something fractured. His eyes cast over the scene, finally seeing a shape roll out, the skin the same texture and color as what it had been hiding in. A camo similar to his own, then. His mind flicked around, and- he fought down a growl, still aware the channel might be open as he saw Vamp. Every part of him demanded to rush down there, to riddle the vampire with bullets until one finally took him to the Hell he deserved. But experience stilled his muscles, telling him to watch the scene unfold.

Liquid turned back to the roiling mass of tentacles, using the Solid Eye to zoom in, shock running through him as he saw the face on the vaguely female body in the middle. Snake. It was Snake's face looking down at the soldiers. His stomach roiled as the insanity in her head quieted; while it still remained, still guided her, it almost felt like she had become someone else entirely. Like it had felt when Decoy Octopus-

Octopus.

Anger flushed through Liquid. What was Ocelot doing? Had he been so enamored of Shadow Moses that he wished to forever have pieces of it with him?

Liquid stood to make his way down to the camp once the new Octopus and Vamp had left, only for the codec to beep. Sighing, he raised his hand, engaging it. "Yes?"

"That was… Vamp!"

Oh how he wished he could have Miller as his mission control for this. But there were things only Emmerich could do now. "Yes. I am aware. I didn't feel him die before, so while it's a shock to see him here, I am not surprised to see the damnable vampire alive."

"Could Vamp be immortal?"

"Not a chance." Liquid's voice turned flat. "Anything will die. We simply haven't found the method which will send the vampire to Hell."

"Liquid! Sunny could be listening."

"You allowed 'damnable,' and yet you scold me for 'Hell.'"

Emmerich sputtered and sighed. "Just watch your language. I don't want Sunny picking up on anything like that, okay?" He cleared his voice. "According to the satellite data Mei Ling procured, the facility where Naomi is being held is to the north, along a mountain road. I'm sending the location to your map." 

"Hm? And who is Mei Ling?"

"She was the data analyst during Shadow Moses. She's been helping us ever since."

"Hm." More of his past coming back to haunt him.

"I think you would have liked her. She's really smart, and she's even the commanding officer of the USS _Missouri_ now."

"Yes, yes. I understand." Impatience filled Liquid's voice.

Emmerich seemed to understand as he dropped the subject. "The conflict between the PMCs and the rebels have nothing to do with your mission. There's no reason for you to get involved or take sides."

"I am aware of that. But their conflict could be useful to create confusion and thus more cover."

"It's also possible if you aid the rebels, they might help carve a path to where Naomi's being held."

Liquid made a disgusted noise, but Emmerich was right. It would help. "I suppose."

"That thing… that thing with the tentacles that killed those men… it had to be the same kind of OctoCamo your suit is using." Emmerich's voice was thoughtful. "I guess Sunny and I weren't the only ones stealing secrets from DARPA."

"What worries me is that thing can even quiet its mind," Liquid mused. "There is insanity running through it, but when it wishes to hide, that mind is not the same."

"Be careful, Liquid."

"I shall." With that, the call ended.


	60. Chapter 60

If Liquid was completely honest, he didn't care about the conflict. Get Dr. Hunter and leave. That was all he cared about. He didn't even wish to do that, but he couldn't argue with the logic behind taking Dr. Hunter from Ocelot's grasp. Switching the Solid Eye on, Liquid slowly made his way through the base, not firing a single shot as he did. It was irritating that he actually made use of the silly eyepatch. But it showed passageways he didn't see with the naked eye, and even more frustratingly, some of the soldiers had implants that impeded his telepathy. The Solid Eye at least showed where those were physically.

But he couldn't waste a single round on any of these rebels. Not when he couldn't use the ID locked guns. Emmerich had supplied him with guns that had been unlocked by Drebin, but that only could get him so far.

The codec beeped in his ear, and Liquid answered. "How's it going?" Emmerich asked.

"I will admit, your little toy is quite useful," Liquid said grudgingly. "I haven't bothered touching the drama unfolding, however. My ammo is limited as it is, and Snake can tell you it isn't exactly plentiful for operatives, even if the rebels have managed to turn the tide."

"I wish you could get in touch with Drebin." Emmerich sounded distracted. "I don't exactly trust him, but those nanomachines are worth it."

Liquid made a noncommittal noise under his breath. Emmerich was right, on both accounts. Drebin didn't exactly seem trustworthy, but he almost seemed invaluable. But Liquid hadn't met Drebin, so he had to work with what he had. It wouldn't be the first time. Being crafty on the field had been normal for FOXHOUND, not the exception.

So that meant coming up behind soldiers, and choking them out instead of shooting them. Emmerich had seen fit to change Liquid's gear, loading him out with a suppressed tranquilizer gun. When Liquid had protested, Emmerich had pointed out it was suppressed (though Liquid was certain they had suppressors for their other guns) and dead bodies rose more of an alarm than sleeping bodies. Which, sadly, Liquid could not refute.

Which meant he had to be careful not to snap the neck of the soldiers he choked. He wanted to. A dead soldier was no longer a threat. But if it was found, Emmerich was right. A dead body rose alarm faster than a sleeping body. A sleeping soldier was considered not doing his job, not being under attack. A dead body screamed an attack.

A slight pain snapped through his back as he crouched, making his eyes narrow. His body wasn't as young as it used to be, as it should be. But as long as he didn't try some of the gymnastics he could do when he was in his twenties- hmph, up even through his thirties, he would be fine.

The path to Dr. Hunter had more soldiers than he cared, but it wasn't too difficult to slip past the soldiers who didn't have implants, pushing their minds aside, and to take out those who did. This would be quite-

His ear beeped.

Blasted codec.

He raised his hand, engaging it. When heavy, labored breathing met his ear, Liquid narrowed his eyes. "Speak. Who is this?"

"Liquid."

Someone who knew he was alive and on this mission. Liquid tensed.

"There's an ambush ahead. Government and PMC troops. You could be shot from anywhere. Watch your surroundings. Look to the distance."

The flat, almost emotionless voice sounded so- "Raiden?" Surprise colored Liquid's voice. "Dear child, what happened to you?"

"Raiden is dead."

Liquid closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to focus on the path ahead of him. "I understand."

"Liquid. I'm at your side."

The call cut there, and Liquid lowered his hand. What could have turned that shiny rookie into that flat, tired, almost emotionless soldier? Had the stress of his own fragments, the pieces of the FOXHOUND rookie ground up against the child soldier, finally gotten to him? Had his deeds and failures at the Big Shell haunted him, despite the mission being a success? Liquid himself knew at times he could still feel Emma's slender hand in his, a fragile life he had promised and failed to save. He had never dealt well with failure.

But the information was well timed. He eyed the surrounding area, looking for alternate paths. Finally, he found one, making his way around it. Sadly, he had to expend a few rounds, but it cleared a path around the mess that had been made. Once he was around it, he leaned up against an armored vehicle, rubbing his lower back as he exhaled.

"I think I might have some nanomachines for that."

Liquid turned, recognizing Drebin's voice as his gun rose. Drebin's hands held a white handkerchief, a white flag shaking around the edge of the vehicle before he came around it. The tell-tale sound of camo being deactivated sounded next to Liquid's ear, and out of the corner of his eye he could see a logo imprinted on the vehicle.

_Eye have you._

Instead of saying anything, Liquid just narrowed his eyes. His accent would certainly let Drebin know who he was given his face was exactly the same as Snake's, and at the moment, he was on the books as dead.

"Come on. Hop in."

Drebin's lips curled.

"Liquid Snake. I have something you want."


	61. Chapter 61

It didn't seem a lucky draw that Drebin happened to be in the thick of things when Liquid just happened to be there as well. While it was true Drebin had been in the middle of all sorts of conflicts, it seemed a little too neat and pat that he happened to be at this one. But Liquid couldn't say anything as he entered the armored vehicle, thoughts sour as he tried to read Drebin's mind and ran straight into a wall. Bloody implants.

"There are more telepaths out there than you think," Drebin explained when he caught sight of Liquid's expression, tapping his head. "And yes, I know you're psychically inclined. It's not helping you as much as you want it to, is it?"

"What do you want, Drebin?" Liquid asked, his voice just above a snarl. He was not in the mood for this.

Drebin slowly sat down, a monkey climbing up on the seat across from him. "You and Snake are interesting guys," he said. "You in particular. Liquid Snake, the last commander of FOXHOUND, the infamous terrorist at Shadow Moses… still alive, in front of me. On paper, you're dead."

"I'm quite aware of that."

With a chuckle, Drebin waved a hand. "I can't image what you're doing in a place like this, Liquid Snake. It's nothing like your previous M.O."

"Perhaps I'm doing a favor for an old friend."

"Hm, perhaps." Drebin sat back. "Except you have first generation nanomachines, like Snake, am I right?"

"If you are intent on sticking me like you did Snake, I would advise you to rethink your actions."

"It's a harmless injection of nanomachines," Drebin told him, his handkerchief running over his opposite hand long enough to take his attention off what it was doing so a nanomachine injector laid between his fingers when it was cleared. "One shot of this, and you're up to speed with Snake."

It _would_ make this mission much easier to be able to use the ID locked guns. But at the same time, he didn't know if he could trust Drebin not to inject him with something that would speed up FOXDIE, or just kill him outright. He was the infamous terrorist from Shadow Moses, after all. Did the possible positive outcome outweigh the negative possibilities?

If he ran into conflict, he had a feeling his current layout would not be sufficient.

Liquid sighed, sitting next to Drebin. The injection stung, but he had to allow it. He had to gamble on it not killing him.

But when he didn't immediately have a heart attack, he let his jaw relax slightly.

"There. Not too bad, right?" Liquid hated the smile on Drebin's face.

"This could not be the only thing you wanted from me," Liquid nearly snarled in his face, his fingers twitching.

Drebin's face sobered slightly. When he opened his mouth, however, he was interrupted by the sound of small flight craft. The two of them lifted the top panels of the vehicle, and Liquid noted the flying figures across the sky, his jaw tightening again at the idea this might be Ocelot's twisted Raven. It was a bird, after all.

"Figures… The B&B's are here. Things are about to get hairy."

"And who might be the B&B's?"

"You never heard of 'em?" Drebin's lip curled slightly. "They're Beauty and the Beast. Together they're called the B&B Corps. They're a squad of enhanced female soldiers - belong to the PMCs. Any time there's a mess that needs cleaning up, they're on the scene leading the elites."

Liquid's eyes narrowed, starting to reach his mind out to verify what Drebin said.

"I wouldn't try to read their minds, if I were you. Not what I would call a party."

Liquid grumbled, but pulled his mind back. He did remember how it felt to hear the Octopus's mind. If all of them were like that… "I see."

"They're run out of a separate parent organization," Drebin continued, still looking to the sky. Slowly, he started to lower himself down, finally turning to Liquid. "Guess it's time for good ol' Drebin to let you in on a few things…" Drebin sat down and Liquid followed, sitting across from him. "Ever since Snake showed up in the Middle East, the B&B Corps has got orders to kill. Their number one priority is to eliminate some guy on sight. A guy named…" Drebin leaned in a little. "Solid Snake. Now-" He sat back, watching Liquid digest that information. "I know you aren't that Snake. But the B&B Corps, they may not look that carefully. You and Solid Snake, you two are twins, and you two still look enough alike I thought Snake shaved his mustache for this mission."

"Hm." Liquid narrowed his eyes. So those women would be out for his blood, thinking he was his dear brother. "It would not be the first time someone would try to kill me, thinking I am Snake."

"Sounds like you've gone to some fun parties," Drebin said, a wry smile on his face. "But that's the bad news." Drebin held out a coin, rolling it along his fingers. "Word on the street says beneath those ugly-ass suits, the B&Bs are real babes. Drop-dead gorgeous."

"A bit of information I care little about."

"Ah yes, the infamously sexless Liquid Snake," Drebin chuckled. "Anyway. They also say each one of them's been traumatized by war. Badly. They weren't even soldiers to begin with, you know. More like-" The coin switched hands. "Victims of war."

"Hm."

Drebin flicked the coin into the air, the monkey catching it. "They suffered shell-shock on the battlefield," Drebin continued as the monkey used the coin to get a drink from the vending machine that… Drebin had for some reason. "Post-traumatic. It damaged their minds pretty much beyond repair." He nodded at Liquid. "You've felt it, haven't you?"

Liquid nodded.

"The only way they could cope with the reality of battle was to become war machines themselves." Drebin leaned forward slightly, his demeanor completely serious by this point. "The remnants of their human side are buried deep within. The beast…" His palms turned upward, opening. "That's what you see on the outside." He clasped his hands again, looking at Liquid. "War transforms us, Liquid. Into beasts."

"If you were not already one already," Liquid murmured, remembering his own past. The way he rebelled. The way he escaped, became commander of child soldiers. And war, turning innocents into the beast he was, taking their minds and shattering it…

Drebin nodded. "But deep within that shell, something human survives. Even for beasts like you, Liquid. A fragile, scarred heart. Without a shell to protect it, it's like a yolk of an egg."

Words rose to Liquid's lips, wanting to refute Drebin's words. But his hands suddenly remembered a slender fragile hand in his, a memory of waking up and having Amanda frantically trying to get him out of bed while Miller slept next to him, beautifully peaceful, the memory of intelligent Sunny handing him a new pen to abuse while playing mission control for Snake while he was in the Middle East… no, he couldn't refute the words. He couldn't say anything.

"Word going around is… Their natural flesh-and-bone bodies can't survive in the open for more than a few minutes. And they've been convinced that by killing Snake, their minds will be cleansed." Drebin sat forward slightly, his eyes intense on Liquid. "They think it's gonna free them from all the pain… and all the fury… and all the sorrow." He leaned back, a little more humor coming to his face. "Which makes these babes pretty much obsessed… with killing anyone that looks like Solid Snake." Drebin gestured to pictures on the wall as he continued speaking. "Four B&Bs have been identified so far. The one you just saw was Raging Raven."

"Raven…" Liquid growled. Yes, he was correct. It was his team's codenames Ocelot was using, the sick bastard.

"There's also Laughing Octopus, a master of mimicry… And Crying Wolf… She runs on four legs."

"Has Ocelot no respect for the dead?" Liquid muttered.

Drebin looked over at him. "And finally… the mistress of mind control… Screaming Mantis."

Something inside the vending machine popped. By the hissing noise and the liquid pouring out, it seemed it was the cans inside, punctured by Liquid's sudden telekinetic rage.

"I figured that would be your reaction."

Liquid took a long, deep breath. "Continue speaking."

"She keeps the other B&Bs minds in check with her powers. Shit…" Drebin chuckled. "I'd hate to be in your shoes."

Slowly, Liquid leaned forward. "I am quite aware of what Cipher's fingerprints look like," he said, his voice low. "I had been a tool of them all my life. The Patriots stink of them, as do you."

Drebin sat back. "Me? No. I ain't no la li lu le… Heh. I mean, I'm no Patriot."

That would mean something to Emmerich, he was certain. But it meant nothing to Liquid. "Hm."

"Don't think Cipher's even around anymore. No need. It's all being run by the System. No need for high-level decision-making authority. It's all handled by a massive yet simple information processing system. An AI."

"An AI." The words came out disgusted, memories of the Big Shell coming back.

Drebin nodded. "It works just like natural law. The world's a much simpler place than most folks realize."

Liquid hated that Drebin was right. He hated every single word coming out of his mouth, knowing it was true.

"Tell me about this AI."


	62. Chapter 62

Drebin's description of the AI made Liquid's head hurt. He killed things. This kind of thing… better left to Emmerich and Sunny. "I see. Ocelot seems to have an interest in this, however. As if he knows a way to access this information from the outside."

With a laugh, Drebin stood. "I'm just a gun launderer. Only reason I'm interested in the Snake twins is 'cause you two start a lot of fires."

"I find that debatable."

Drebin only smiled as Liquid stood, ready to leave. "Well then. You know the offer I gave to Snake regarding any guns you find in the field. Same works for you. And you need me, just give me a ring."

Liquid snorted, leaving the vehicle. "I'll remember that."

As he turned, the door of the armored vehicle closed, Drebin pointing to his own eyes. "Eye." His fist clenched. "Have." Then pointed at Liquid. "You."

With those frankly unsettling words, Drebin drove off. Liquid couldn't say why that was rather unsettling, just… that it was. Perhaps soldier instinct… or that possible precognition. Or perhaps one fed off the other. It was to the point Liquid didn't know anymore, only that he knew that Drebin didn't sit right with him.

Nevertheless. Liquid turned and continued on the path, keeping an eye out for other weaponry he did not have before. Drebin's little shot would make things much easier now that he could take the enemy's weapons for his own. He did hope whatever Emmerich had heard when he spoke to Drebin made some sense to him. It made none to Liquid.

The codec beeped in Liquid's ear, and he swallowed a groan as he answered it. "Yes?"

"Liquid."

Raiden. "I can hear you, child."

"You understand." Raiden's voice- his voice was almost wry. "Jack is no more, and Raiden…"

"Is a name forced upon you," Liquid said, half to himself.

"Exactly."

"Where are you, child?"

"I'm right beside you."

Liquid chuckled. "Child, I would feel your mind if that was the case."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Please tell me you did not get those ridiculous implants as well."

He didn't answer that. "You're here instead of Snake."

"I am. And you? What are you doing?"

"I've been on a mission. Finding something… for someone."

Liquid tilted his head. "Intriguing. What did you find?"

"The corpse of Big Boss."

Oh did _that_ send adrenaline running electric through his veins. "Father…?"

"I was asked to do this in exchange for Sunny's location."

Liquid lifted his head slightly. "So to save a small child, you retrieved the corpse of Big Boss. I presume the real one?"

He laughed a little, no humor in the noise. "I know about the phantom. I was briefed on him. I made sure it was the real Big Boss."

"Hm." Liquid stared out over the path in front of him, winding and grassy. "And who asked you to do such a thing?"

"The leader of a small resistance group. Her followers call her Matka Pluku."

"Interesting name." Liquid's mind easily translated it to English, not sure if 'Big Mama' was truly the codename she wanted for this. "She was the one that hired you?"

"We'll finish this later. I'll follow your trail and catch up with you."

"Indeed. Stay safe, child."

There was a moment of hesitation before the call ended. Liquid let out a breath, continuing on his way. It would do him no good to worry. And the child was competent. He had to be, to get this far.

But Liquid… Liquid had to keep going. The sound of the rebels versus the PMC soldiers around him got inside him, stirred his blood… but he blocked it out. His path was clear. Rescue bloody Dr. Naomi Hunter. Any wanton destruction he wanted to indulge in couldn't happen. It would just have to lie there, dead with the memory of a youthful body.

Which, at the moment, made it the time his back was reminding him that he was not as young as he used to be. Liquid grunted slightly, leaning up against a rock, letting the shade hide him as he rested. Only a few years back and he would have already been done. But instead, his body attempted to betray him in the middle of a battlefield.

If he had all those responsible for the Les Enfants Terribles project in front of him right then, he would have strangled them all. Not shot them. He would have watched their lives slowly slip from them as his hands clenched around their throats, watching them struggle for breath and fight back before succumbing to unconsciousness, and finally, death. And that was if he was feeling merciful when he found them.

But instead he pushed off the rock and continued onward. Finally, he reached the compound, seeing the mansion above him- and felt the rumbling of a large vehicle. When he turned, he saw an armored dozer ramming the gate. Liquid found himself grinning as it broke through, using the confusion to slip in. Wanton destruction was certainly his favorite.

Carefully, he reached his mind out, hoping to find Dr. Hunter's mind and locate her that way. However, he found nothing. Either it was a trap and she was not here, or she had those bloody implants. But now it was time to search the entire place.

…

It was a nice mansion, at least. Full of nice things for him to pocket. Rations were always useful.

But finally he came to an underground path, and to a ladder. Slowly, he climbed it, lifting the cover as he climbed out. Nothing happening… was he in a spot the battle couldn't spread to? A building to his right…

"Then we'll have to make a lot of changes."

Liquid pressed himself up against the wall as he heard a familiar female voice that spiked fury and hate inside him. As if she didn't notice, Dr. Hunter continued walking, the phone in her hand. "Yes, that's right," she told whoever was on the other line. Liquid slowly made his way around, stamping down on his fury so it didn't show telekinetically. "We'll need another go at it." Who was it Dr. Hunter was talking to? "That won't be a problem."

Dr. Hunter made a few affirmation noises as Liquid made his way around, keeping his gaze inside the building when he could, mind outreached. He couldn't feel Dr. Hunter's mind - how he hated these implants - nor could he feel anyone else's. He would have to be careful.

When he got to the door, Liquid pressed himself up against the wall and opened it, quickly scanning the area around him physically and mentally. Still nothing. The building seemed to be some sort of lab… which made sense. Dr. Hunter's lab.

"Yes, the next test."

Dr. Hunter was still talking, pacing while she spoke. Liquid narrowed his eyes. How he wanted to shoot her.

"And things on your end?" She huffed out a laugh. "I see. We're on schedule here as well." Her voice filled with a slight humor. "I know. Me too." Liquid could see a small, fond smile on her face. "Until then…" Her thumb ended the call, just as she doubled over in sudden pain. Liquid found a slight vindictiveness rise inside him as he watched her. But she only injected herself with nanomachines, making Liquid roll his eyes. Of course.

When Liquid took a step closer to her, she turned suddenly, surprised. Then her face softened slightly. "Snake… no." The hardness returned to her face. "Who are you? You look just like Snake, but your hair is a lighter gray, and it's longer. But you look exactly…"

Liquid could say one thing about Dr. Hunter: She was intelligent. Her eyes widened as she started to put it together. Instead of saying anything, Liquid nodded over his shoulder, indicating they should leave.

"But… no, it's can't be. You were listed as KIA at Shadow Moses, and…" Dr. Hunter's eyes narrowed slightly. "No. You were MIA, weren't you. You never died. So that means…"

"Yes, yes, now can we leave?" Liquid asked, his sudden interjection making her startle slightly, as if hearing his British accent made it more real that he was truly before her.

"Why are you here? Why isn't it Snake?"

"Perhaps I'm doing a favor for a friend."

Dr. Hunter started walking towards him, brushing a piece of hair back from her face. "Is this friend Dr. Emmerich?"

"You ask too many questions, Dr. Hunter," Liquid told her, his voice cold.

"I thought he'd be the only one to open the mail I sent. Not many people could recognize 4D sound data in a Soliton Radar file."

"Yes, you are so clever," Liquid said, impatient. "Shall we go?"

Dr. Hunter tilted her head. "You've changed. You're nothing like the man that took over Shadow Moses."

"I am aware of that." Liquid's gaze dropped to the phone on the table, and he growled slightly. "Who was it you were speaking to?"

"Liq- well, all things considering, my hunch he's only Ocelot seems to be right."

Briefly, Liquid opened his mouth- only to feel something against the edge of his mind. He turned his head, frowning. "And where is Ocelot these days?" he asked, distracted by what he was feeling telepathically.

"Taking care of business."

Liquid felt something crawl up his back. Soldier instincts… and perhaps a little of precognition. "Where are your guards? I expected to take out a small army to extract you."

"They know I won't escape." Dr. Hunter started walking past him, making Liquid turn to follow her. "I'm powerless to resist. I have no choice but to cooperate."

"And they did not expect someone to come and extract you?"

"Until I sent that file to Dr. Emmerich, no one knew I was here."

Liquid narrowed his eyes. Something did not seem right. "Dr. Hunter. Cut the bullshit."

"I don't know what you want to hear, Liquid. I can't tell you exactly why I don't have guards, only why I think I don't."

"Hm." Liquid tilted his head again, brushing his mind out. "Well. My job is still to retrieve you. Anything you know can be told to Emmerich and Snake. And if you are trying to lay a trap…" He raised his gun, training it on her forehead as her body stilled, quivering like a rabbit. "I can extract a dead body."

Dr. Hunter inhaled deeply as he lowered his gun. "I understand." She started to move, then stopped, looking at him. "Liquid… before we go, may I ask one thing?"

"I am not above shooting you in the leg, Dr. Hunter."

"The Middle East… was a test of Ocelot's. But Snake was never under the System's control, and by extension, neither have you. I want to examine you, before we leave."

Liquid raised his gun.

Dr. Hunter only stared at him, defiant.

Finally, he sighed, lowering it again. "What do you need?"

"Undress."


	63. Chapter 63

Dr. Hunter's visible distress at Liquid's appearance seemed… interesting. But he could tell she was not seeing him, but rather his mirror, his twin. "I would rather not spend more time here than we need to, Dr. Hunter," Liquid growled. "Let's get this over with."

She took a deep breath, wiping away an errant tear as she wrestled her face into a mask. "Yes. Of course." Dr. Hunter nodded to the adjacent room. "Follow me."

Liquid followed her to the room, sitting as she busied herself with her preparations. The examination started with familiarity, reminding him of Basic. Checking his vitals, reflexes… it wasn't until she lead him to the machine against the wall that his skin started to crawl. "Dr. Hunter…"

"It's just a CT scan. I promise it won't hurt you."

Liquid eyed the machine with distrust. How he wished he could read Dr. Hunter's mind and hear the truth for himself. How he hated those implants. But he laid down, ready to defend himself in any way, physically or psychically, if something went wrong. Thankfully, it seemed the machine was what Dr. Hunter said it was, and she got her data in due time, letting him out.

When she came by with the needle, though…

The table Liquid sat on started to vibrate.

"It's only for a blood sample," she said calmly. "There's nothing in here."

Liquid wrestled with his telekinesis, and the table stopped vibrating. "I can see that. I also have quite the distrust of you with needles. At Shadow Moses, I was made quite aware of FOXDIE, and who created it."

Dr. Hunter looked away. "I'm not proud of what I did."

"And yet."

She looked back at him, her gaze steady. "And is this how you're going to live your life, Liquid? Bitter and angry?"

"It's always how I've lived my life. A Cipher tool, led to believe I am the inferior twin, twisted and manipulated into creating the event at Shadow Moses-"

"Let me see your arm." Dr. Hunter quickly slid the needle in, and twisted a vial into place to draw blood into. "You choose how to live your life, Liquid. If that's how you want to live what moments you have…"

"Finish your examination, woman," he growled.

She continued, falling silent. Liquid watched her work, his eyes narrowed. Something told him to leave, take her and leave, but- he wanted to know what she could find out. There was something important to know.

Finally, she started to talk, rambling a little about nanomachines. Of course she would. Nanomachines ruled everything in this day and age. But one thing she said-

"'May be interfering with my body and my heart?'" Liquid glared at her. "Yes, I was injected with nanomachines before I infiltrated the Big Shell back in 2009. The batch we used had been a first generation batch, yes. We thought it wouldn't be missed. Are you sure this interference isn't your precious FOXDIE, perhaps aging my body far faster than it should?"

Dr. Hunter shook her head. "No. Your telomeres were intentionally set up to be short, regardless of the age of the original."

"I am not a fan of genetics, Dr. Hunter. Plain speak, please."

She paused for a moment, thinking. "This should be true for Snake as well. Your genes were intentionally mutated so you'd age faster and removed your ability to have children."

Liquid just sat there for a moment, wrestling with the rage that rose at those words. He had personal little interest in the second half of that, but the fact it had been taken before he could have formed that opinion made his hands twitch. And his aging, forced upon him… "This is all intentional."

Dr. Hunter nodded. "Yes. You're coming to the end of your natural lifespan. You and Snake… both."

If FOXDIE didn't take them first. "Damn you, Cipher," Liquid hissed. He didn't need to let loose any telekinetic rage, though. Doing so in Drebin's vehicle had been mistake enough. That had been a minor burst, just enough for him to feel it. This… he knew he would feel this one. The molten rage bubbled under his skin, and he knew when it blew it would be destructive.

"You can get dressed. I'm done with the examination."

With a sigh, Liquid went to dress. He took the time to calm himself, paying attention to how it felt to pull the suit back on. By the end, he still wanted to rip a head off, but he could keep his telekinesis under control. "And how much longer is our natural lifespan, Dr. Hunter?" he asked, sitting on the bed.

"Your cells-"

" _How much longer?_ " Liquid slammed his hand against the bed, glaring at her.

"… half a year."

The words hit Liquid harder than he wanted. Six months to find Ocelot. To kill Ocelot.

To spend with someone he trusted, perhaps loved, in a place that healed his body and soul…

Dr. Hunter walked over to him, kneeling. Liquid tensed. "You and I both know you and Snake's bodies are approaching their limits. When I said another half a year, I wasn't talking about your lifespan."

"Speak _plainly._ "

"We can't get rid of the FOXDIE in your and Snake's body completely. At this point, it's circulating within you two like a normal virus." She stood. "FOXDIE only kills its victims when the inflicted person's genetic code fully matches the genetic sequence programmed into the virus's receptors."

"Dr. Hunter…"

"It only attacks targets with specific genes. It was also set up to protect those not designated as targets from the virus's harmful effects." She crossed her arms. "FOXDIE is mutating within you as you age, Liquid. And it would be doing the same to Snake. The receptors are wearing down."

"Please, get to the bloody point already."

"This mutated version of FOXDIE could activate even if-" Dr. Hunter took a breath. "It could start infecting and killing people indiscriminately."

"I could become a walking viral threat," Liquid said flatly. "Snake and I both. Just us being alive could cause untold deaths because _you_ wished to play God."

She flinched slightly at that. "I am not proud-"

"You've said that before. So, this will happen in six months? Snake and I will start being biological threats?"

"No…" Dr. Hunter shook her head. "The part of the virus that distinguishes between individuals will start to break down in about… three months."

Three months.

"I can't predict the impact of the epidemic. If it was up to me, both of you would be quarantined already."

Liquid barked out a laugh. "Then I suppose it's good you have no power, hm? I am not giving up until Ocelot is dead."

Dr. Hunter sighed. "Three months, Liquid. What you decide to do after you kill Ocelot… you'll have enough time."

His throat hurt for a moment, phantom pain long forgotten of the vocal cord parasites and the memory of the island he was on about to be cleansed of the parasite with napalm- and the gun to his head- "And if I die before it spreads?"

"If, for whatever reason, you and Snake die before then… when the host dies, the virus dies with it."

Liquid narrowed his eyes, taking that in.

"You also have a new strain of FOXDIE. I don't know where it came from. Did you get an injection recently or-"

The window panes rattled. "Drebin," he growled.

Dr. Hunter looked at the windows nervously, then back at him. "The new FOXDIE strain is starting to mutate rapidly. I'll need to do more tests." She went to a cabinet, returning with a box of injectors. "Here. You and Snake will need these."

"And what is in these?"

"It's a drug to help when the System starts to interfere with the nanomachines inside you. It's potent, so use it sparingly. Unless you want to end up an invalid." She handed them to Liquid, turning as he pocketed them.

"Very well. Are we done here?"

"I-"

"Dr. Hunter."

She walked behind the machine she had used to scan Liquid, her hand to her face. "Ocelot is planning to seize control of the System," she whispered, as if someone would overhear them. "Removing the System will only cause his army to collapse from within. Ocelot's objective is to hijack the SOP System."

Liquid felt himself grow cold. The amount of power Ocelot could abuse…

Dr. Hunter kept talking, but Liquid only felt something on the edge of his mind. Something… watching them. It had tickled for a while, and now it was only getting stronger. He couldn't pay attention to Dr. Hunter and feel that on his mind. He-

A flash grenade blinded him. When his vision cleared, Dr. Hunter had been taken away by PMC soldiers, both of which Liquid hadn't heard coming. How he _hated_ those implants. He started to follow, then-

Turned, his gun out as Laughing Octopus descended from the ceiling.


	64. Chapter 64

Laughing Octopus's forced laughter rang through Liquid's head as the ink cloud dissipated, taking her and the soldiers with it. Quickly, Liquid pressed his fingers to his ear, connecting to Emmerich's frequency. "Those were specialized soldiers. Who did Laughing Octopus bring with her?"

"FROGS. They're Ocelot's own personal unit. Don't underestimate them, Liquid. They gave Snake and Rat Patrol 01 a hard time."

"Understood." Liquid disconnected, reaching his mind out. It seemed all the FROGS had gotten their implants, or the nanomachines they were equipped with interfered with his telepathy. Given how prevalent nanomachines had gotten, Liquid wondered if anyone even bothered with implants now. The thought rather unsettled him. With what Dr. Hunter had said, if Ocelot took control of the System, how easily he could manipulate the entire world…

Liquid flicked on the Solid Eye, noting it also showed nothing around. But there was a higher chance there would be a physical sign sooner than a psychic one, which would make this little toy invaluable during this fight. Slowly, he made his way to the hall, noticing the Solid Eye picking up movement. His muscles tensed as he reached his mind out, barely catching a whisper of a presence. Nanomachines, then. Implants would completely hide her mind from him. He couldn't rely on his telepathy here, though. Not when he had to be so physically close to even hear a whisper.

Carefully, he rounded the corner behind two FROGS, aiming. He felt a rush of satisfaction as the bullets ripped through the FROGS, a part of him ecstatic he found something lethal in the mansion. The piddly little tranquilizer gun wouldn't be enough here.

Oh, the gun wasn't suppressed. Oops. And now his position had been given away. His eyes raked over the layout as he moved, hating the openness. There was no good place to press up and watch the FROGS run by, only to ambush them. With the nanomachines and their minds already alerted to look specifically for him, he couldn't push their minds aside either.

Which meant paying attention to the Solid Eye to ensure none were trying to sneak up behind him and killing all that came at him from the front.

An exhilarated laugh escaped Liquid's throat. It seemed Snake didn't understand this, the enjoyment of battle. In particular, a battle that almost seemed like it should be a losing one, and the innate knowledge coming from years of experience, perhaps even his genes, the genes of Big Boss, that he _could_ win this battle. That he _would_ win this battle.

FROG after FROG fell, more and more dropping into the building as their comrades died. The way their suits burned upon death unsettled Liquid, but he pushed it aside as he continued his assault. As fast as Liquid could find them, the FROGS fell, Liquid's blood heating with battle.

As one last FROG fell, a distorted voice filled the air as Liquid suddenly felt insanity brush along his mind. "Snake!"

Liquid whipped around, following the peals of forced insane laughter and the fragmented mind. He could feel things becoming distant, fuzzy… but the constraint of the suit pulled him back, how it supported him. It helped ground him from drifting along his own fragments. He followed the signs to the center of the lab, watching Laughing Octopus unfurl herself from where she had been watching in the ceiling. She could hide her own mind, Liquid remembered. The way she had when he had first seen her back at the encampment when he first arrived.

She dropped onto the floor, the tendrils on her helmet pushing her upright as her OctoCamo deactivated. "What a riot," came the raspy distorted voice. "People suffering…" She curled up on herself, a mockery of someone laughing so hard they clutch their middle. "People hurting…" The rasp turned into a growl, almost demonic. "People dying…" With a sudden motion, the tentacles unfurled, pushing her up. "It's all so fucking hysterical!" Her forced chuckles filled any silences, making Liquid's jaw tighten. "Laugh," she demanded. "Laugh with me!"

Instead, Liquid took aim and fired, emptying the magazine into her. With a laugh, she curled into herself, a cloud of ink filling the air. Liquid quickly reloaded, chambering a new round as he reached his mind out. She was hiding her thoughts again. He growled, carefully making his way around the corner into the hall.

"I'm over here!"

The noise registered on the Solid Eye. Liquid brushed his mind out in the direction of the sound, trying to get a sense of where she was psychically as well. He thought he could feel her mind… slightly… there. Against that wall, it didn't quite look right. Once again, he took aim, and fired.

Octopus didn't allow him to empty the magazine this time before disappearing into her cloud of smoke. Instantly, Liquid turned, using a mix of his physical eyes, the Solid Eye, and his psychic senses to sweep the building.

There. He took aim again, repeating the cycle.

Only this time, when he turned, Octopus burst through the window, aiming at him and firing. Liquid hissed under his breath, darting for cover behind the corner, turning just as she rounded the corner to start firing at her. Instead of disappearing, she retreated slightly, allowing Liquid to press his advantage.

And then she disappeared.

Damn. Where was she now? Liquid reloaded absently, keeping his senses on alert. When he found her, certainly, he fired as many shots as he could before she disappeared. Sometimes the disguises were clever - the painting took him a while.

"Snake! Come here."

"Otacon…?" Liquid frowned, starting to follow the voice- then stopped. No. Emmerich knew Snake was not on this mission. "Very clever," Liquid murmured. "Now…" He slowly followed the voice, carefully looking around the corner… and sighing. It was perhaps age and experience that stilled his tongue, but how he wanted to say something about the Mk. II not being that large. Instead, he rounded the corner, shooting at Octopus.

"What?"

"Tsk, tsk!" Liquid grinned.

Laughing Octopus certainly had many tricks. A part of him sighed, a part that never left Shadow Moses, wishing a sane version of her could have worked for him. Her and Decoy Octopus would be unstoppable. Alas.

Finally, she fell, a large cloud of ink expelling from her body. Liquid started to move forward to finish her, then stopped, his body growing ridged as laughter flitted across his mind. Female laughter, not his own. The helmet dropped off Octopus's head as she stood, her suit shifting, changing. "I am an octopus," she rasped, still laughing. "An eight-legged beast." Slime dripped from her suit as it continued to shift, her voice still inhuman. "These tentacles… are beyond my control." Her hands started to curl as she continued to laugh. "Their will… is the will of the battlefield." Horrible laughter seized her before she gagged, vomiting ink. "Funny," she gasped once the ink was expelled, covering her face. "So funny." Finally, her hands fell as she looked Liquid full in the face for the first time. "It's all so funny."

Liquid's breath caught. He could hear her voice resolving into a frightened female voice, but-

_"Laugh! Laugh, Devil's Child! It's funny!"_

_"Isn't it funny? Didn't you enjoy chopping your friends up?"_

_"Keep laughing!"_

Liquid shuddered, dodging her outreached hand.

"I'm sorry. So sorry I laughed." A soft sob escaped her throat. "I'm sorry… I won't laugh anymore. I can't… I don't want to." With those words, insane, uncontrollable laughter spilled from her as she reached out again.

Liquid shuddered again, dodging her arms. He had a feeling he didn't want to be touched by her. The best thing he could do for her would be to shoot her, take her life right now.

For some reason, he switched to the tranquilizer pistol, and took aim, firing a dart into her. As it landed, he heard the sound of the laughter, her mind encroaching on his again. Again, again-

Until she fell suddenly, curling up in a fetal position, her face slack with peace.

And her fire extinguished in his head.


	65. Chapter 65

The face mask Laughing Octopus used could come in handy. Emmerich would find it interesting. Liquid picked it up, stashing it as he left the building. His codec started to beep at him, and he answered, expecting to hear Emmerich or possibly even Raiden.

"Yo Liquid! Looking good today."

Liquid immediately terminated the call at hearing Drebin's voice. He certainly was not in the mood to deal with the man that infected him with yet another virus. Not, at least, over a silly codec call. In person, where he could shoot the man… that was a different story.

His codec beeped again, and he answered.

"Very cold, Liquid. And here I was going to give you some good advice."

"I perhaps do not wish to hear what the swindler that infected me with another virus would have to say."

"Virus?" Drebin had the audacity to sound surprised and offended. "Why would I give you a virus? You do know there are other folks that could've done this to you. I got no reason to infect you. No gain in that. Better for me that you and Snake are out there kicking ass on the battlefield." His voice turned amused. "I was watching you, Liquid."

"Oh wonderful. Add in surveillance to the list of reasons I wish to shoot you."

"Relax! It's all confidential." Drebin chuckled. "You never lost the love of battle, huh, Liquid? And taking down Laughing Octopus, single-handedly…"

"Yes, yes. Are you done?"

"Got some information about her too. Girl's got a past."

"And I'm a telepath and she thought quite vividly about it once she was out of her suit," Liquid said sharply.

"Handy little talent." Drebin let the words hang in the air for a moment. "But in a way, you did the right thing. Fighting you cleansed her mind. You aren't actually Snake, but to her, you were. And it freed her."

Somehow, Liquid got the feeling Drebin wasn't just talking about Laughing Octopus.

"Alright, enough chit-chat."

"Yes, indeed. Do not call me again."

"I'm hurt, Liquid." Drebin chuckled. "Oh, and that FaceCamo you got? Try using it with your suit for maximum effect. Gonna need some tailoring before you and Snake can use it, but you got someone for that, don't you."

"Goodbye, Drebin." Liquid ended the call again, taking a deep breath. He needed to find Dr. Hunter now. Slowly, he left the building, looking around for signs of where the soldiers would have taken her. For a moment, Liquid felt dizzy, but it passed. After Dr. Hunter's words, even that brief bout worried him. But it wasn't time to dwell on it. He would bring it up to Emmerich when he returned with Dr. Hunter.

Following footsteps, Liquid made his way down the trail. The Solid Eye came in handy yet again, allowing him to see Dr. Hunter's heeled steps as he walked. However, the sound when the NV mode was on set his teeth on edge, and he flipped it off fairly quickly. It felt so nice, however, to be able to walk past soldiers and push their minds aside.

But when he saw the bright pink bra, he had to fight uncontrollable laughter.

If it had been perhaps her coat or, to go along with the crude nature, her underwear, he would have been taken in by the ruse. Instead, Liquid only searched for a sniper, grumbling to himself when he found one whose mind he did not hear.

Did they not realize he had met the woman and seen she had her shirt unbuttoned nearly to her navel?

He took care of the sniper and continued on, switching on NV mode briefly to ascertain his position occasionally. When Dr. Hunter's footprints disappeared, Liquid frowned, confused for a moment. She didn't just disappear into thin air…?

But one set of footprints were deeper than the rest…

Oh, he was an idiot. She was being held. Liquid started to follow the deeper set footprints, occasionally flipping on the NV mode.

But finally, he made his way to a helipad, the sound of a helicopter guiding him. Naturally. Liquid peeked around the corner-

And heard something crunch behind him as both his mind and eyes told him Dr. Hunter was in the presence of _Vamp._ That damnable vampire. How he wished he could kill him right now.

Oh, and how lucky Liquid felt when Vamp allowed him a clear line of sight. His hand held a mobile phone to his ear, speaking to someone, but Liquid didn't reach his mind out to hear who it was. Instead, he only held his rifle to his shoulder, aiming carefully. This wouldn't take someone of Sniper Wolf's caliber. Even Liquid would be able to take aim… and…

A new hole appeared in Vamp's head, spinning him with the force of the shot and forcing him to drop his mobile. However, he reached out before it hit the ground, catching it, making Liquid hiss. Of course the damnable vampire was not dead. And this only alerted the PMC troops with him. Liquid looked around, thinking. What could he do…

Suddenly, every cell in his body cried out in pain. Liquid coughed, stumbling. What was- what was-

"The syringe!" Dr Hunter's voice made him look up. She held one in her hand.

Of course. Liquid pulled one out, injecting himself with whatever drug she added in there. The pain dripped away, and he looked up to see… oh Lord. He was just not going to think about it from now on. Just fight the giant mooing bipedal robots and get Dr. Hunter back.

He barely noticed Drebin pull up beside him.

"C'mon! Get in already. We got the good Doctor."

Liquid looked over at Drebin, then up at Dr. Hunter on the roof.

With a sigh, he caught Dr. Hunter as she jumped, and helped her climb in.

"I still wish to shoot both of you," he informed them as he sat down, bracing himself as Drebin drove.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Drebin answered, amused.


	66. Chapter 66

While the wild ride on top of Drebin's vehicle, firing a machine gun, had been the most fun Liquid had in a long time, it also was very irritating. He just wanted this entire thing to be over. The majority of the reason happened to be so he didn't have to be around Dr. Hunter and Drebin any longer and fight the urge to shoot them. Another… perhaps it was age. But he didn't find hearing distressed minds around him screaming in agony then snuffing out a joy to listen to as Drebin drunkenly rocketed through the roads. Perhaps age. Perhaps knowing it was Ocelot behind it, plucking their strings gleefully.

When the road started becoming paved, Liquid dropped down from the roof. He could just hear Emmerich berating him for injuring civilians already if he stayed up there. So instead, he sat across from Dr. Hunter, bracing himself.

A good plan, as suddenly the world went sideways. When everything came to a halt, Liquid started to make his way out, stopping when he turned to make sure Dr. Hunter was following and seeing her slowly sit up, dazed. "Come along," he snapped, grabbing her wrist and yanking her up.

She groaned, stumbling to her feet. "You don't know how to deal with women, do you," she grumbled, staggering on her heels.

"I have no sympathy for you. Let's go."

"Oh shit."

Drebin's hissed words put Liquid on edge, and he let Dr. Hunter's wrist go, following Drebin to see several Gekko looking for them. Liquid reached for his gun before his mind brushed something… familiar.

Shards grinding against each other, trying to find a home, hating every step of the way-

Dr. Hunter's hand on his shoulder pulled Liquid in, centered him. "Liquid. What is it?"

Quickly, his eyes cast around, pulling upward to see a figure standing on a rooftop staring down at the Gekko, sword in hand. "What are you thinking, child," he murmured, staring at him.

Daringly, the figure jumped down in front of the Gekko, catching their attention. Liquid heard Drebin speak, but he only took a step closer to him, trying to figure out what was different. Why the shards were sharper now. But he felt Drebin's hand on his shoulder, almost throwing him back, and Dr. Hunter's hand on his arm. "We need to go," she said, urgently.

Liquid looked back, his eyes narrowing. "Come along."

Dr. Hunter nodded. After hobbling for a moment, she kicked her heels off and tore her skirt for better movement. Her face still had a slight cast of pain to it, but she could walk. Liquid didn't pay her much attention, tried not to pay attention to the sudden bloodthirsty, single-minded mind behind him and the way it thought bittersweetly about himself, about his twin, about the events of Big Shell and who he could save and could not save.

"Liquid. I'm setting the chopper down in the market square." Emmerich's voice broke through his thoughts, making Liquid startle slightly. "Hurry!"

Liquid looked behind him, watching the Gekko lose interest in the child and follow them. "Dr. Hunter. The market square. Go." He pulled out his gun, not watching her leave. These Gekko would be… interesting. He pulled his mind back as far as possible to keep the terrified minds of the civilian from overwhelming him, but they still filtered through his mind, battering against him. How he understood why Treij wore the gas mask now… but he grit his teeth and continued on. Killing the Gekko… he wasn't sure he could do so with his current layout.

But he would have to live.

And Liquid did not run.

"Liquid! There's no time to take on the Gekko. Just ignore them and get out of there, quick!"

Damn Emmerich for his reasonable words. If he took the time to fight the Gekko, it would take far longer than he wanted to take them down. And his mission had been an extraction. It would be a success once Dr. Hunter was on board the _Nomad._

So that meant avoiding the Gekko.

Liquid disabled Gekko when he could, shooting out their legs so they wouldn't be able to track him as easily. But he didn't bother to truly engage with them. His mission was almost over. Despite wanting to let the battle take him, he had to stick to the mission.

Something flew through Emmerich's mind as Dr. Hunter entered the helicopter, but Liquid paid it no mind, his blood still hot. It probably had something to do with how the mission was almost over, or perhaps how this woman infected the Snake twins. Liquid picked up the Mk. II before Emmerich could say anything, hearing his mind suddenly worry about it, and handed it to Dr. Hunter before he climbed in. "Emmerich!"

"Where's Raiden?"

"The child is still fighting." Liquid watched, his eyes narrowed. It was glorious. He was more at home with a blade than a gun. Why had they ever given him a gun?

At the same time, Liquid's mind brushed across _that_ mind as Dr. Hunter gasped "Vamp!"

Three Gekko whipped wires out, wrapping them around various limbs of the child's. Liquid watched as Vamp danced around the Gekko, making his way closer, his mind roiling. Liquid grit his teeth, wishing for a sniper. Wolf would have been quite useful here. Or even that strange woman on the Diamond Dogs base. He had heard she had been a mythical shot. But Liquid was not a sniper, despite his ability to nudge bullet trajectory. He could only nudge them, not force them to where they needed to go.

Liquid took aim, knowing he had to try. It would disable Vamp for a while, allowing them to rescue the child. Learning how to truly kill the vampire would have to wait. Right now, they merely needed to leave with all their lives intact. He tried to ignore Vamp's sadistic bubbling thoughts and the sudden bursts of agony from the child as Vamp stabbed him. Just one good shot, disable the vampire long enough to rescue him…

The shot went wide, but not unusable. It severed one of the cables, allowing the child to cut the other and start fighting again. Liquid watched, his eyes flicking along the scene for any weak points he could shoot. The child's mind unnerved him slightly, as the wounds didn't bother him. They hurt, certainly, but the possibility of lethality didn't bother him. He almost… accepted it. Welcomed it.

What happened to him?

In return, Vamp's mind sung in battle… and certainly welcomed the pain. The possibility of lethality. When the child impaled himself so his blade would go though Vamp, the vampire's mind hoped this one would be the one. That the child would be the one to finally put him in the ground for good.

They certainly could make that dream a reality, Liquid thought to himself.

Vamp's flame didn't flicker out as he fell, though, making Liquid grit his teeth. What would it take? Would they need to rip the vampire limb from limb? Stuff his mouth with garlic? What would they need to do to make sure the accursed Vamp would never see the light of day again?

But the child finally jumped into the helicopter, white substance trickling from his wounds. Liquid looked him over, taking in the new enhancements as he helped him in. "How badly are you injured?" he asked, not sure what the damage he took would equate to with his new mechanical parts.

"I'm fine."

Dr. Hunter helped the child onto the seats just before he started seizing. Emmerich's mind was spinning, trying to figure out why Vamp was still alive. "Vamp. He's got to be immortal."

"No. He's not immortal at all."

Fire. Incinerate the vampire. Burn him to a crisp…

"It was my design that caused his body to be like that."

"If you say it has something to do with nanomachines," Liquid started, his voice a warning.

Dr. Hunter didn't look up as she used her coat to apply pressure on the child's wounds. "It's true. They cause his wounds to close and heal at an accelerated rate. I had started basic research on it. Someone took that and perfected it."

Liquid took a deep breath, telling himself _not_ to damage anything telekinetically. "How is the child?"

"He's losing too much blood."

"Dr. Hunter. Can you save him?"

"I don't know. He needs a blood transfusion." Dr. Hunter checked his vitals, thinking. "No. An infusion of artificial blood."

"Liquid."

Without thinking about it, Liquid reached out, clasping the child's shoulder as he struggled to sit up. "Yes?"

"Europe." His strength spent, the child dropped back down. He could hear a mechanical voice say words, but instead he saw a vision in the child's mind. Crystal clear. A woman. One that could assist him, assist Snake.

Big Mama.


	67. Chapter 67

Well, that was utterly adorable. Liquid pulled his mind away as Sunny and Dr. Hunter laughed over remembering the next element in the periodic table. He still didn't quite trust Dr. Hunter, but Sunny seemed to relax more around her than anyone else. Perhaps it was as simple as the fact Dr. Hunter was also female, and she could relate more to her? Or perhaps that Dr. Hunter wasn't a soldier, and wasn't one of her parents…

It didn't matter. Liquid wasn't a child psychologist. The mere thought brought laughter to his lips before he shoved it back down. "That is the situation," he said instead, lacing his fingers together as he leaned forward, staring at Miller's image. "Dr. Hunter hasn't caused any trouble so far."

"You still don't trust her."

Liquid's lips twitched. "Would you?"

"Definitely not." Miller sighed. "But we don't have much of a choice, do we? So what are you going to do?"

The question held more than what Miller was asking. Liquid understood, tilting his gaze to his hands. If Dr. Hunter was correct, if he returned to Alaska after this, he would infect Miller with FOXDIE. There was no guarantee this version would take Miller as quickly as it took Octopus and Baker, and he held the possibility of spreading it to the town he visited when he had to secure supplies he could not find elsewhere. Which would spread it even further… if he did not return to Alaska, it would be for the best.

No. The best would be for Liquid to die before he even had a chance to return.

But Liquid set that question aside, focusing on the mission at hand. "The child is gravely damaged," he mused. "And given he told us to seek out this 'Big Mama' next…"

"Who happens to have the body of your father. Your actual father, not Venom Snake."

He could hear Snake grunting curiously from upstairs. Liquid didn't deign to explain it to him. "I wouldn't deny that also interests me."

"Are you going to find her?"

Liquid considered the words. Then shook his head. "I am after Ocelot. Not the body of Father."

"They're the same goal."

A small headache started in the middle of Liquid's forehead as he heard Dr. Hunter's voice behind him. He still hadn't been allowed to harm her in any way, despite everyone knowing what her genetic tinkering had done. "Please explain," Liquid said flatly, turning to meet her.

"May I?" Liquid stood as gracefully as he could, mockingly bowing as Dr. Hunter sat at the computer. "Oh. Hello."

"Dr. Naomi Hunter, I presume?" Miller's voice cooled, hiding behind that military steel he had worn when Liquid first met him.

"Yes. Are you are?"

"Miller. You were going to explain how finding Ocelot and the body of Big Boss are the same goal?"

Dr. Hunter nodded, clicking a few things. "It's the final key he needs to access SOP. He would be in Eastern Europe to find the corpse of Big Boss."

Liquid frowned, considering the words.

"So that would mean if Liquid goes to take out his daddy issues, he should find Ocelot too," Snake said, coughing following the words.

Liquid took a half step towards the stairs before he stopped. "I knew your smoker's lungs would catch up eventually."

"And the accelerated aging hasn't?"

"Snake is right," Dr. Hunter said, her voice breaking between them. "If you follow the corpse of Big Boss, you should find Ocelot."

Liquid looked over at the computer, seeing the tiny window with Miller in it. How he wished he was there, how he could easily reach his mind out to brush over Miller's… but instead, Miller only nodded, very slightly. "Very well."

Dr. Hunter started explaining what had happened, how Ocelot had used DNA from both Liquid and Snake. His eyes slid over to Miller, not following why it didn't work. They were clones, right? Shouldn't it work? He tried to make sense of it as he heard Snake come closer, still coughing.

Absently, his mind brushed out, over Sunny's cheerful one and Emmerich's…

…

As long as it didn't interfere. He could admit Dr. Hunter was an attractive woman. As long as Emmerich's notice of that and the resulting rise of hormones didn't interfere with the mission, Liquid couldn't complain.

"Is it the fact they're not exact clones the reason why it didn't work?"

"Well-" Dr. Hunter sounded taken aback at Miller's question. "You sound like you know a lot about this."

"I was briefed on the Les Enfants Terribles project. I probably know more things about their genetic makeup than you do."

"Well, I doubt that," Dr. Hunter said with a forced laugh. "But yes. Liquid and Snake are not exact clones. That's why it didn't work. Which is why they created Solidus."

"But Solidus is dead." Liquid nodded at Snake's words. The child had killed him.

"Listen carefully." Dr. Hunter turned to look at the two of them. "This is the most important part." When she turned back to the computer, she pulled up another file. Liquid frowned, taking it in. It made no sense. Hopefully Dr. Hunter- "The AI that controls the System employs a highly aggressive, advanced IDS." She gestured to… something. "It uses a special code to inspect all data and commands circulating within the network. Any data that fails to conform to that code is treated as a foreign object and expunged. Like viruses killed by white blood cells. The authentication process this IDS uses is based on a genetic identification program." Here, her voice turned hesitant. "One I helped develop for FOXDIE."

Liquid's hands twitched.

He didn't need to be near Miller to know he was telling him to stand down. With a long breath, he forced himself to relax.

"It's set up so that host commands only execute properly if the key matches perfectly. However…"

Liquid rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"If the IDS suspects someone is trying to break into the System, it registers that genetic code on a blacklist. That code is then blocked, and can never be used again to access the System. So." Dr. Hunter turned to them. "If you're going to use a substitute, you need to find a new genetic access code with each new trial." 

Liquid raised his hand to his mouth, musing on this as the others spoke. He paid no attention to Emmerich's mind - his growing attraction to Dr. Hunter held no interest to him, even if it did start to take over Emmerich's thoughts. So what did all of that mean?

"Which is why Liquid's FOXDIE is much further along than Snake's." Dr. Hunter's voice broke through his thoughts, making him turn to her.

"What?" he growled, his hands twitching. Yes, she had done a small version of the examination she had done on him on Snake, hampered by the lack of her lab, but she had gotten enough data. How could this be? How could it be that they were _that_ different?

"Your genetic code is speeding up the deterioration of FOXDIE. Yours is also more chaotic than Snake's. I'm surprised you didn't succumb to it at Shadow Moses, to be honest. Or at any moment after that."

"I still have work to do," he informed her coolly.

Dr. Hunter nodded. "If Ocelot uses Big Boss's genetic code… the original… he'll have the System completely under his control."

Liquid grit his teeth. Snake and Emmerich were talking, but it didn't matter. All he knew was he needed to take out Ocelot. Now. He-

"Big Boss is already dead!"

"No. He's alive."

Snake grabbed Liquid's arm before the table could do more than rattle slightly. He nodded towards Sunny typing away at her computer, and Liquid took a deep breath, knowing what he meant. Don't compromise the _Nomad._ The adults would be okay. Sunny… might not.

"Explain."


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's obvious by how much I'm dragging my feet on these chapters that I _do not_ like MGS4. Third Sun is a part I do like (Big Mama and Raging Raven are some of my favorite parts), but I am outright dreading the rest of this and wondering how I can fast forward to just the Screaming Mantis fight and the end.

Their father was alive, in Eastern Europe. Liquid rubbed his temples as preparations were made, trying so hard to forget what he had heard the previous night coming from the helicopter. Emmerich was an adult. Despite Liquid's own distrust of Dr. Hunter, Emmerich could choose his sexual partners himself and did not need anyone's input. Even if the close quarters and the fact it was rather enthusiastic did make little Sunny embarrassed.

Eastern Europe. Also where they could find a place to help heal the child. Liquid lowered his hands to pick up a rifle, absently checking it over. "So dear Brother will be using the FaceCamo," Liquid mused as he put it aside, next to his gear. "It rather makes sense."

"I'm just a little worried about you, Liquid," Emmerich said, moving to push glasses that weren't there up. "I don't have another suit for you, and since you two are twins, you could be mistaken for Snake."

"With a completely different hairstyle and no mustache." Liquid raised an eyebrow. "I grew my hair out for a reason, Emmerich."

"Oh, right." Thankfully, Emmerich managed a sliver of tact and did not mention the dissociation in front of Dr. Hunter. "Well, that doesn't change the fact we don't have a second OctoCamo suit. Or even a second Solid Eye."

"I have ways of not being seen, Emmerich." His eyes flicked to Dr. Hunter. His psychic abilities were still not completely spelled out to her, or even that he had any. She could have put together he had telekinesis. The rest of it…

Dr. Hunter pushed a lock of her hair out of her face. "I had to study your genetic makeup to make FOXDIE," she told Liquid. "I saw the psychic markers in there that Snake doesn't have. I'm not sure what a little telekinesis would do, though…"

Snake grunted. "He's telepathic too."

Dr. Hunter stilled at that. "Oh."

"Still." Emmerich frowned. "Psychic implants are becoming more and more common."

"Emmerich, do you really think I rely on them so heavily? I have other ways of not being seen. Your little toys are useful, not needed." To be honest, Liquid knew these words were coming from overconfidence. He did rely on his psychic powers a touch too much. He could use a hat to obscure his features, which would help not to be seen, and he did know how to move around stealthily when unable to use his abilities. After Arsenal Gear, it had happened once more and he had been forced to do so alone. It had been exhilarating, and humbling. But as long as he could read _some_ of the minds around him, it would work. It wouldn't be a complete picture, but it would be enough.

"N-no, I-"

Snake set a cigarette between his lips. "So that settles it? I get the suit and mask?"

"I do want Liquid to have some sort of suit," Emmerich argued. "You two are losing muscle strength almost every day. I want him to have something to help counteract that. I can't build a new OctoCamo suit in such a short amount of time, but I think I can rig something out of one of Snake's old sneaking suits."

"I get one of Brother's old suits. Fantastic." Sarcasm dripped from each word.

"You don't have to come," Snake told him.

"And miss the chance to spit on Father's body?" Liquid gave Snake a bland smile. "Brother. I am offended."

Snake just grunted.

"Let me get started on that." Emmerich stood, moving towards the stairs.

"I'll get started on a… a new Solid Eye!" Sunny said, her voice only slightly catching once.

Liquid blinked. "Sunny, that is not-"

"You'll need it… right?" She didn't quite look at him. "I have one half built already. I-in case Snake breaks his."

Liquid looked over at Snake, then let out a little laugh. "Well then," he said, feeling Sunny's spirits rise at his amused voice. "How long will it take?"

  


* * *

  


Liquid could hear chattering over nanocommunications as he rested up against a light pole, his hat obscuring his features. He would normally pretend at this point to be smoking, the disgusting habit good for making others not want to look at him, but that would only make him look more like his brother. Instead, he freed the newspaper out from under his arm and pretended to read it as Snake exited the train into the city.

They couldn't walk together, unlike the last time they had worked together. Instead, they would have to work around the city until they found routes towards the Paradise Lost Army, and Big Mama.

It had slightly rankled to see Snake with the FaceCamo… and the youthful mask covering his features. Days long past…

Liquid's passage in had been a little harder than Snake's. They still couldn't let Silverburgh know he was alive. He had to sneak in properly, and blend in while Silverburgh helped Snake around the sensors. But now he had to wait for Snake to properly enter, and they could look for Big Mama.

Something brushed his mind. Something… that told him it was good he was there. He needed to be there. This was good.

Liquid frowned, focusing on a letter on the newsprint as he tried to focus on that very obvious precognition. What did that mean? Why did he need to be there? Was it just him? He had a feeling it wasn't. That it was him and Snake. Something important laid in these streets for the both of them, and it wasn't just the charred, barely alive body of their father.

But the feeling faded, leaving him frustrated. How he hated he couldn't control that.

Nevermind. He would go from there.

It was time to locate Big Mama.


End file.
